


Prisoner's Punishment

by garylovesjohn



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Ahegao, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal destruction, Beating, Blackmail, Blood, Boot Worship, Brutality, Bullying, CBT, Captive, Chains, Chastity Device, Cock & Ball Torture, Come Inflation, Cruelty, Crying, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Death Threats, Deepthroating, Dehumanization, Dildos, Double Penetration, Edging, Enemas, Ero Guro, Fear of Death, Filming, Fisting, Forced, Fucking Machines, Gang Rape, Gangbang, God Complex, Golden shower, Gratuitous Smut, Gun Kink, Humiliation, Knotting, M/M, Male Lactation, Masochism, Master/Slave, Mind Break, Multiple Orgasms, Needles, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Non-Human Genitalia, Nosebleed, Object Insertion, Oral Sex, Orgasm Denial, Over the Top, Overstimulation, Painful Sex, Piss Fetish, Power Imbalance, Prolapse, Puppy Play, Purple Prose, Rape/Non-con Elements, Ridiculous, Rough Sex, Ruined Holes, Ryona, Sadism, Scat, Self-Indulgent, Sex Toys, Sexual Abuse, Sexual Coercion, Sexual Slavery, Size Difference, Smegma, Sounding, Spitroasting, Stockholm Syndrome, Teratophilia, Threesome - M/M/M, Triple Penetration, Twunk, Urination, Verbal Abuse, Video Cameras, Violence, Vomiting, Voyeurism, Watersports, bratty bottom, god i wish that were me, mysophilia, piss drinking, prisoner, sizequeen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:01:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 11
Words: 32,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25782541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/garylovesjohn/pseuds/garylovesjohn
Summary: Piers is Wesker's captive and endures escalating perversions and tortures.
Relationships: Piers Nivans/Albert Wesker, Tyrant/Piers Nivans
Comments: 38
Kudos: 252





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> From 2018, but many chapters were added in 2020 and the pacing was improved.  
> This is part of a bigger AU, but I write everything disconnected because horniness controls me.
> 
> Please mind the tags. Nobody is forcing you to read.  
> If you can't separate fiction from reality, that's your problem.  
> This is probably my most ridiculous and over-the-top fic. It's pure self-indulgence, full of "god I wish that were me" scenarios taken to the extreme. Don't read unless, like me, you crave to be brutally bullied by Wesker.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, Piers blows two magnums.
> 
> Warning : drugs, cbt, edging, orgasm denial, gunplay, deepthroat

When Piers came to, it wasn't long before he realized he was bound in a dark, cold cell, though he didn't know where.

His arms were bound above his head, numb and aching. Metallic restraints were digging into his wrists, inflaming his skin. His legs were on fire from kneeling on the hard floor.

He still had his uniform on, but that was of little comfort as he noticed his pants were undone and his member stood, proudly erect, out in the cold air.

He couldn't understand why.

There was nothing arousing about this situation. He was scared, freezing, and in pain. Yet he was leaking like a faucet and, if his hands had been free right now, he would have rubbed one out before even thinking about escaping.

Unfortunately, his erection would have to remain untended. It was throbbing like he was on the verge of release. A sensation so nagging he had trouble focusing.

He couldn't figure out how he had gotten here.

What had happened?

One moment he was with Chris.

Then they were separated.

Then nothing.

Had they both been captured?

Unnerved, he tried calling out for his captain, but the echo of his own voice in the surrounding darkness led him to discover that he was all alone.

Not for long, however.

Mere moments after shouting, the lights turned on, blinding him briefly.

Squinting, he blinked the glare away as he glanced around, adrenaline kicking in. He was in a grey jail cell, the walls bare and made of cement blocks. No windows, no way to tell what sort of building housed it. There was no bed, just a shabby, dripping tap and a seatless toilet. He then noticed the floor was slightly inclined and, between his knees, was a large drain with a thin rivulet of water trickling down.

He now realized just how dry his mouth was. He would give anything just to be able to lap up those few lazy droplets flowing below him. Even looking at it was torture.

So instead he aimed his eyes upward. His handcuffed wrists had been bleeding, judging by the crusty red lines caked upon his forearms. The chain between his hands was held up by a large, clasping hook, not the kind he would be able to free himself from, even if he stood up.

That's what he tried next, getting back onto his feet. They were asleep, and barely had he tried that he realized his ankles were bound to the floor, cuffed as well, locked to a metal hoop bolted into the cold, hard cement.

Who the hell had captured him? Was this for a ransom? To negotiate with the BSAA?

He didn't have time to raise more questions into his mind as he heard footsteps coming down the hall.

He hated that the door to his cell was behind him and he had no way of getting a good look. He heard keys, the click of a lock, the grating of heavy iron, the clang of bars being closed then locked again.

Then the footsteps got closer, boots on concrete, slowly approaching, like a predator ready to strike.

When he finally saw his captor, he spat in disgust.

"Wesker!"

That only got a small chuckle out of the blond man.

Piers tried pulling himself up through the sheer strength of his arms. He knew he could potentially stand, he just couldn't walk away. Unfortunately, his muscles were unresponsive and he only gave a pitiful display. 

He really hoped Chris had not been taken as well. There was no way that Wesker would keep him alive for very long.

His heart sank at the realization. If his captain was not already a prisoner waiting for death, then that meant that he was bait to lure him to this place, wherever this was.

This also meant that torture was probably on the menu.

Just as the horrible prospect formed into his mind, he discovered exactly what kind of pain he would be subjected to.

Piers grit his teeth, stifling a moan, as Wesker's boot pressed against his bared erection, hard enough to hurt. Precome leaked from the reddened tip of his untended arousal.

His whole body felt sore, arms numb, uncomfortably tied in the air. His legs were full of pinpricks from kneeling for so long on the cold floor. But this was nothing compared to his ache for release.

A release he dreaded he would not be getting any time soon.

He couldn't fathom why he was so horribly horny. He was more pent up than he ever had been in his entire life. Just a mere touch had sent his body ablaze with need.

Surely they had drugged him.

Desperate, he tried to hump the rough black sole of the boot, only to be pushed away. He was so close, he could have come in just a few seconds. His dick spasmed, longing for the hard rubber to grind against its sensitive nerves again.

"My, my. Aren't we eager?" Wesker sneered, his voice mocking.

"Fuck off!" Piers snarled, struggling in vain against his bindings.

"Watch that mouth of yours, dumb boy." came a snapping reply punctuated by a strong, leather-gloved slap to the young man's cheek.

What an arrogant, snotty little brat.

The kind Wesker would just love to put in his place.

"You remind me of Chris when he was young. He too was a dumb, stubborn troublemaker. I tried correcting him time and time again, but he never learned. Let's see if you're easier to train." his index finger moved over his prisoner's lips, drawing their lovely shape, "Mmh, you have the lips of a dick-sucking whore. Something Chris lacked, unfortunately. But he sure had one hell of an ass."

He stuck his thumb past those trembling lips and tracing it over the boy's warm tongue, earning a growl of protest in response.

That certainly did not dissuade him.

Quite the contrary, it made his blood run hot.

He hoped Piers would fight back with all his might.

"I bet you're popular with the guys."

With a mean smile, Wesker slapped his helpless captive again before he could reply, enjoying the sharp sound of leather against dewy flesh.

Piers groaned, his face flared in pain, bearing a red, hand-shaped print. The inflamed mark soon blended into his deep blush as he saw the other man pulling his half-erect member out of his pants.

"Go fuck yourself, you bastard." he blurted out in dismay, eyes like saucers as he saw what awaited him. He had expected something like this to happen, but being faced with the harsh reality of it was nonetheless dreadful.

Another slap, this one harder than the last, left him dazed for a few seconds. That old man was a lot stronger than he looked.

"Be polite."

Wesker's patience grew thin. He hated disobedience.

Holding the young soldier by the scruff of his neck, he pressed his hard-on against his swollen cheek.

Pinching his lips, Piers was still adamant about refusing to cooperate. He turned away as much as he could, frowning, yet his gaze fled his captor's.

"What's this? Are you intimidated by it?" Wesker had a soft chuckle under his breath, "Perhaps you'd like to practice on something smaller first, mmh?"

As he spoke, he pulled his magnum revolver from its holster and aimed it at Piers' head, "Put it in your mouth."

The young man's eyes grew wide with fear as he stammered. His once red face turned white as a sheet. A firm knot tied his stomach. His heart pounded. His instincts kicked in, vainly fighting the chains that bound him in order to get out of the way. There was just no escaping from point blank. The skin on his wrists scraped so thin, the burning welts that marked his flesh began to bleed again.

"I'll blow your dumb brain out instead, if you prefer." Wesker remarked coldly as he cocked the magnum, "If you think you're of any value to me, you're mistaken, boy. It's in your best interest not to aggravate me."

Terrified, Piers licked the revolver's chrome muzzle. The weapon was loaded, there was no doubt about it. He could see the bullets in its barrel, ready to end his life.

Tears coalesced in the corners of his lashes and he did his best to blink them away, refusing to let them flow. His lips shook, his panicked eyes fixated upon the leather-clad index finger on the trigger.

Time seemed to stop to a halt.

The cruel coldness upon his tongue. The taste of metal in his mouth. The sweat of fear dripping along his horripilated skin. This was all he knew in this moment.

"You still owe me an apology for being so rude. Say you're sorry." Wesker spoke casually, amused by the situation, as if this was the most normal thing in the world.

Muzzle pressed against his tongue, Piers mumbled, barely able to form intelligible words, "Um sowwee."

"What did you say? I can't hear you, boy."

"Um sowwee, suh!" he spoke as best as he could, as loud as he could, his voice almost cracking from anxiety. The gun was dangerously deep within his mouth. Its cold metal brushing against his teeth.

"See? It wasn't that difficult now, was it?" Wesker smiled as he pulled the magnum away, uncocked it, and slid it back in its holster, saliva still dripping from its tip, "You're still hard as well. Did this turn you on, dirty little slut?"

Piers let out a shaky sigh of relief. Swallowing the lump in his throat. Keeping his eyes low for the time being. Fear had momentarily made him forget about his arousal. He was so on edge that even the sheer terror he had just experienced had not calmed his furious erection. Precome trickled down the flushed shaft and soaked his pants. The need for release grew up to a boiling point again. The colours that had drained from his face at the sight of the magnum rose their way back to his cheeks.

"Let's put that nasty little mouth to better use." Wesker purred salaciously while trailing gloved fingers upon the boy's perfectly smooth face before balling his fist into his hair, "Suck it." he then ordered firmly, rubbing the tip of his erection against his captive's plump lips, still trembling with apprehension.

Piers did as ordered. Not that he had much choice after all. He feared the threat of the gun and would rather do this without having it pointed at his forehead.

He eyed the monstrous shaft before him. Taking in the sight and smell of it. Mentally preparing himself for what he was about to do. The man was far bigger than anyone he had ever been with. Far older too. Although he had stopped ageing, the difference was still quite apparent. It both scared and excited him at the same time. A confusing turmoil. He hoped obedience would lead to rewards, perhaps even his release.

With a soft whine, he sloppily licked the underside, drooling with lust. His tongue trailed over the snaking veins, engorged and pulsating, all the way to the tip, already wet with precome. The taste of musk regaling his tastebuds.

In the sorry state that he was, it didn't take much for him to be completely inebriated by it. The commanding and menacing aura that radiated from his jailer also enticed him despite his hatred. It was difficult for him to keep his voice down as he slurped loudly around the length, purring and moaning.

"You're a noisy little boy. Are you enjoying yourself?" Wesker had a devious smile, knowing full well the other man couldn't reply, "Of course you are. It's a premium meal for a cock-hungry slut like yourself." he sighed as a shudder of pleasure crept up his spine, "I'll make sure to feed you plenty."

With his gloved fist still holding a firm grip into Piers' hair, he shoved his entire length down his throat.

Mouth wide open, the young man took it all the way to the base. His nose buried in blond curls. He choked in surprise, trying to shake his head away without success. As the fingers clenched harder, nearly pulling hair out of his scalp, he knew he had better behave lest he faced the consequences.

He sucked and slobbered, brows furrowed, tawny eyes fixated upon his tormentor's face, throwing the darkest of glares. He swallowed around the thick flesh, cheeks hollowed, throat constricted.

Wesker vigorously pumped his hips, fucking Piers' pretty face hard and fast, as deep as possible. His full balls slapping wetly against his chin.

"No gag reflex. You really are a grade A slut. A real pro. Is this what they teach you in the BSAA?" he licked his lips in delight. Staring at his prisoner through the tinted lenses of his sunglasses.

The young man was in tears and blushing deeply from the lack of oxygen, but he was taking it like a champ. No heaving, no retching. Just a warm, willing mouth swallowing him in and a devious little tongue licking at his sack whenever he hilted his face.

With such sweet ministrations from such a lovely, helpless prisoner, it wasn't long before he was ready to blow.

"Come on, drink up, boy..." Wesker hissed between his teeth as he ejaculated, as deep down the young man's throat as possible so he would have no choice but to swallow every last drop, "It's all for you."

Not quite human anymore, he was more abundant than a mere mortal.

Piers sputtered weakly, surprised by the amount that was force-fed down his neck. Desperate for air, he choked and thick semen came bubbling out of his runny nose.

His vision grew blurry until, finally, his mouth was freed.

Slimy tendrils of saliva formed between his lips and the engorged member he had been servicing as his tormentor pulled away. He inhaled deeply and coughed on all the liquid in his maw.

Wesker smeared everything on the boy's face with his softening length, giving his blushing cheeks a few wet slaps. Sweat, tears, come, drool, all together in a sinful mixture.

"Messy, messy." he laughed, glacial and cruel, as he beheld the wreck he had left his captive in. Piers' erection still angrily pointed at him, untouched and dripping in despair.

He had no intentions of tending to the boy's needs. Righting himself back in his pants. He gave one final glance at his prisoner before walking away.

Piers' head hung low in shame. Saliva and come flowing out of his parted lips as he panted. He dared not look at his assailant for fear of being punished again.

He still held onto the faintest hope of being freed, or at the very least, being allowed to come.

But when he heard Wesker walk out of the cold prison cell and the heavy barred door being locked behind him, he knew he would be here for a while.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, Piers is offered a drink.
> 
> Warning : there's no sex happening (unless you count a flaccid penis in one's mouth as actual sex), only piss drinking and some beating

Piers had been tied in this dark and miserable cell for a couple days now.

He wasn't sure, but he felt like it had been this long.

He didn't know where he was either. He loathed all of this uncertainty.

He had endured quite a bit of torment at the hands of Wesker, both physical and verbal, but he still had plenty of fight left in him. He was not scared of his captor, even though he knew he should be.

At least he had not been sexually abused again, but he was smart enough to know that it was still very much on the line.

"You've been here for a while now. I don't think good old Chris is coming to rescue you." Wesker remarked as he arrived for his daily go at his prisoner, his tone haughty and mocking.

"He wouldn't leave me behind." Piers snapped back with a snarl.

Wesker scoffed at the young soldier's arrogance.

"He knows you're bait. He's probably given you up for dead now."

"Never. Captain Redfield would never abandon me."

"Such blind faith." he laughed cruelly as he trailed a leather-clad finger upon his prisoner's face.

Piers turned his head away in anger, visibly upset.

With a devious smile, Wesker continued to provoke him, "Perhaps, if he actually liked you, he would have saved you already."

He saw just how much his words hurt him deep inside.

Piers grit his teeth, wounded, "He'll kick you back into that volcano you crawled out of."

His threat only managed to elicit more laughter from his captor.

"You've got a lot of nerve for someone whose life depends solely on my goodwill."

He took his sunglasses off before cupping the young soldier's chin and lifting his head up to stare into his grieving eyes. How he loved the amount of resentment he found within.

He continued, "Maybe I should send you back to Chris, piece by piece." a light chuckle rocked his imposing frame, "Or, should I say, Piers by Piers?"

"Fucking choke, you blond cunt."

Wesker completely ignored the less than creative insult.

"Tell me, boy. Have you ever fantasized about Chris? Dreamed of your dear captain taking you deep and hard against a wall in the barracks?"

Piers frowned at the taunt, "Have you?"

He expected his insolence to be met with a hit. It would still feel like a small victory to him no matter what. In fact, he sought his captor's anger. He wasn't going to give this son of a bitch the satisfaction of breaking him.

Instead, Wesker just had a small chuckle, "You'll have to do better than that, boy."

He pulled a long, serrated knife from the scabbard behind his belt and made the blade twirl in his hand before his prisoner's horrified face.

"I wonder which part of you I should cut off first."

The threat was accompanied by a hard press of his boots against Piers' crotch. So hard he screamed in pain and that made Wesker shiver with delight.

A harder press.

A louder scream.

Oh, sweet music.

"Fuck off, you fucking bastard." Piers growled between his clenched teeth.

A sudden wrong note and Wesker's smile vanished instantly.

He gave a harsh slap to the young man's dewy face.

"Shut up." he ordered, cold and stern.

"Fuck you!"

Another slap, more merciless than the last.

"Shut up." he repeated.

"Go fuck yourself."

The boy just wasn't listening.

"You use that word a lot." Wesker had a short, barely amused snort.

This time, he didn't slap him.

He punched him.

Not with much of his strength. He knew he could easily pulverize a human skull with little to no effort. He held back. His gloved knuckles met a defined cheekbone in a loud thud.

Piers' face instantly flung to the side. Spit was ejected out of his mouth from the impact. His whole head throbbed in pain after the blow and his vision grew blurry for a few seconds.

"Fuck!"

Again, his favourite word.

"I'll tell you one last time : shut up."

Again, a strong punch. This one to his other cheekbone. Now he had two dark bruises and his poor face puffed up a little.

Wesker couldn't decide whether he was cuter now or before.

"I'll fucking kill you." Piers hissed, his gaze still insolently pointed towards his tormentor.

The older man could only scoff at his foolish audacity.

"You're in no position to threaten me."

This time, he punched him in his insolent mouth, busting it. A thin red rivulet trailed down his chin. He almost wanted to lick it.

Instead, he opted to touch it.

"Your lips are chapped." he remarked as he brushed his thumb over their rough surface, the dry skin peeling off slightly, "Are you thirsty?"

"Get the fuck away from me, you maniac."

The pain only resulted in aggravating Piers. He held the icy stare that sought to intimidate him with his own, still so defiant. He spat at his tormentor's face, his saliva mixed with blood.

Unfazed, Wesker wiped the slimy liquid from his cheek with his index and licked it. Poor dumb brat had no idea how much that turned him on.

He sighed despite being quite amused by the situation. With his free hand, he unzipped his tight, black pants.

"You really need to wash that dirty mouth of yours."

A cruel smile deformed his placid face as he pinched Piers' nose firmly, holding it no matter how much he struggled, until he had no choice but to open his mouth to breathe. Mouth he then stuffed with his soft member.

Horrified, Piers growled around the intrusion. The last thing his captor deserved was another blowjob from him. Yet, despite how furious he was, the act also unwillingly aroused him.

He hated this. He had been hard almost constantly since he had awoken. No doubt they had drugged him somehow.

"If I feel your teeth just once, I'll scoop both your pretty eyes out with the point of this knife."

Wesker put emphasis on his threat by letting the tip of the blade graze along the line of Piers' jaw. Then up his darkened cheek. All the way to his left eye.

"Then I'll fuck your orbits until you're leaking come out of your ears. Understood?"

Piers nodded. A shaky, stiff bob of his head.

"Good. Now drink."

He coughed and gagged as his mouth was instantly flooded with piss.

That was not what he had expected to happen at all. This was gross and tremendously humiliating. He'd much rather go back to getting punched in the face.

The liquid was bitter and rank upon his tongue. The pungent smell of it invading his nostrils while he sputtered. Plenty of it poured all over him as it gushed out of his parted lips. Absolutely vile.

"Who's choking now, boy?" Wesker asked with a hint of amusement in his voice, "You'd best swallow if you don't want to drown."

He pressed his limp length harder into his prisoner's face, making sure he wouldn't be able to spit much of his gift out. That ought to put this feisty boy in his place. Punishing his insolence like this made him trepidate with joy.

Piers gurgled weakly as the soft flesh invaded his mouth entirely. He had no choice but to swallow everything lest he would choke on it. The taste was utterly revolting and the warm sensation inside of his stomach made him feel sick. There was so much of it. A lazy, yet constant stream of clear, hot urine flowing down his gullet.

It was so abundant, he was sure it had been premeditated. Wesker had probably drank an entire gallon of water beforehand.

He couldn't take it anymore. His belly felt so full. It was nauseating.

No matter how repulsive, his unwanted erection bobbed, yearning to be played with. The feeling of piss dripping all over its sensitive skin only made it more desperate for release. It was so emasculating. He just wanted to bite down and tear everything with his teeth.

But he knew it was useless. His jailer would heal and he would lose both his eyes afterwards. He knew his captor never uttered empty threats. He had best stop trying to aggravate him if he hoped to remain in one piece.

He grunted despite his full mouth as tears of anger rolled down his beaten cheeks. If he ever managed to get out of here alive, he would make him pay. Chris was coming for him. He knew it. He just had to hold on a little longer.

As he finally felt the trickle weakening upon his tongue, he almost sighed in relief.

An order resounded from above, "Come boy, give it a good suck. Enjoy every last drop."

Reluctantly, he obeyed, disgusted with himself. He was in no position to protest. He did as commanded without enthusiasm, eager for it to finally be over. He couldn't wait for the taste to be out of his mouth.

"I've had much better piss-drinkers before. You need to learn how to properly worship a man."

With an unimpressed face, Wesker pulled out and gave a few slaps to the boy's already abused cheeks with his flaccid length. Smearing his bruised skin, already quite damp, with his own saliva.

Piers dry-heaved as he was getting cock-slapped, coughing and gagging. He couldn't stop crying.

"Keep it down, boy. Don't make a mess."

He slobbered all over himself, but he managed not to throw up. His view now blinded by tears, he never saw the strong punch that came for his face.

It left him dizzy, flaring his pain anew. His nose was bleeding quite a bit. Through the blur, he could vaguely discern red droplets falling onto his uniform. The acrid taste of urine in his mouth mixed with the coppery flavour of blood.

Tremendously ashamed, he didn't have the gall to speak anymore.

"I see you've finally learned to shut up."

Wesker had a mean snicker as he saw how the boy no longer hurled insults at him after being hit.

Satisfied, he put his knife away and retrieved his beloved sunglasses from his front pocket.

He walked out, leaving his prisoner tied up in piss-drenched clothes. Just as he was about to close the gate to his cell, he turned around and smiled deviously.

"From now on, I hope you'll remember that silence is golden."

He put his sunglasses back on and locked the door behind him.

He would be back later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( •_•)  
> ( •_•)>⌐■-■  
> (⌐■_■)  
> YEAHHHHHHHHHH!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, Piers discovers just how much of a pervert his captor truly is.
> 
> Warning : enema, scat, humiliation, physical abuse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains a forced enema and its messy outcome.  
> Do not proceed if you can't handle scat.  
> If it's not your thing, you can skip this inconsequential chapter entirely.

Hours later, Wesker returned.

Piers couldn't tell how much time had passed. There were no windows, no clock. His watch had been taken away from him. Not that he would have been able to look at it from this position.

He could only assume how long it had been from the fact that his wet clothes had dried in the cool air of his cell.

This had been a truly miserable experience to be left in such a state. He had shivered and cried. His nose had bled all over his uniform. His cheeks had swollen further. Not enough to impair him, but he had two black eyes now.

When his cruel captor walked in front of him, he didn't say anything. He didn't want to fight. He kept his head low and awaited whatever horrifying game he would be forced to play.

"Finally learned some respect, I see."

Wesker smiled, happy to notice that the boy was feeling much mellower now.

He pulleyed the chain that bound his prisoner's arms up until he was forced into a standing position. He made sure to have him on tiptoes rather than fully on his feet. He wasn't about to allow him to be comfortable.

Gazing upon all the dried blood on the soldier's attire made his smile grow wider.

"Your lovely costume is ruined now." he wrinkled his nose and scoffed, "And you reek. Such a filthy little boy."

He took his knife out, letting the silver blade shine in the dim light, making sure his captive noticed he had it in his hand.

It drew a slight startle out of Piers, but no major reaction.

"I'll help you out of those." Wesker crooned as he began to cut into his garment.

He let the sharp edge bite into flesh here and there, ever so slightly, creating thin lines in which small, red droplets now pearled. This elicited a few winces, but not much else. At long last, the boy had no fight left in him.

Took him long enough.

He stripped him down to nothing, leaving no scraps of cloth behind, not even his boots. He just tossed everything aside without care.

Piers hated how vulnerable this left him. Not to mention cold. His skin was covered in goosebumps now. He would miss his uniform, no matter how smelly it had become.

His body was just as ripe, something which Wesker did not appreciate.

He left the cell and the young man grew anxious, thinking he was going to fetch some torture instruments.

What he came back with wasn't much better.

A bucket and a hose.

He watched as the older man filled the container with water from the nearby tap.

A high-pitched yelp left him as ice-cold water was dunked over his head, dousing him entirely.

"Fuck..." he panted, shivering so much he rattled his chains.

A resounding slap to his bruised face.

"What did I tell you about language?"

He lowered his gaze and said nothing else. He just cried, miserable as he was, while his captor walked in circles around him.

"Still believe Chris is coming for you?" Wesker taunted before delivering a hard punch to Piers' ribs.

A loud groan of pain was his only reply.

He kept prowling, a subtle smile upon his lips.

"You're a complete idiot."

Another punch, this one to his other side.

Another groan, but still no words.

Wesker used the boy as his personal punching bag for a couple minutes, hitting his stomach and back plenty, but making sure not to use too much strength. Nevertheless, his fists left many nasty bruises in their wake.

"Nobody's going to save you, stupid boy. You're all alone here."

He trailed his index finger down his prisoner's spine, admiring his muscular back. For such a cute young man, he sure was buff. Wesker loved that. It felt good to beat someone so tough.

He cupped his generous rear with both hands and rubbed his bulge against it. All that punching had gotten him quite hard.

"But don't you worry. I'm here to keep you company."

He spread his buttcheeks apart, looking at what the boy had to offer.

"Well, someone sure isn't a virgin anymore." Wesker commented, amused, as he looked at his hole, blushed pink and oh so inviting. A soft, hairless, vertical slit. The telltale sign that he had a lot of experience bottoming and definitely enjoyed the company of well-endowed men.

"Baby smooth too." he hummed as he trailed his gloved thumb around the boy's anus, "Do you wax it or have you gotten laser like a good whore?" He laughed in sadistic glee, "I bet you're a complete sizequeen. You'll be pleased with what I have for your well-trained cunt."

Piers blushed a little, embarrassed by how much his captor could tell about him from a simple look.

Yes, he was seasoned in bed.

No, that wasn't any of his damn business.

"But first, I've got to get you cleaned up." Wesker mentioned nonchalantly as he went and hooked the hose to the dripping tap in the wall.

Oh no.

"Don't…" Piers snarled with tears in his eyes.

This was going too far. He knew how bad a cold water enema hurt.

He wasn't ready for this.

Most of all, he didn't want someone watching.

"Come now, I'm sure you're familiar with the process." Wesker chuckled as he pressed the tip of the hose past his prisoner's sphincter after coating it with a bit of spit.

"Untie me, I'll do it myself. Come back later." Piers hyperventilated in fear, watching helplessly as his captor walked back towards the tap.

"And miss all the show? Absolutely not. You have no idea how much I've been looking forward to this."

With a mean smirk, Wesker turned the water on, which tore a trembling, miserable bray out of the bound soldier.

Piers squirmed, howled, begged for it to stop inbetween screams of despair. There was so much pressure and he was filling up real fast. His stomach ached and cramped from the cold, it was absolute torture. His angry guts growled, desperate to empty themselves of their content.

His abdomen swelled up, the skin uncomfortably taut over his chiselled abs, laden with sweat.

He felt the hose on the verge of popping out of his ass since he was now way too full. He clenched his hole as tightly as he could, but it was so painful he could hardly breathe.

He felt like he was going to pass out.

"The more you're holding on, the worse it's gonna be, you fool." taunted Wesker with a laugh. He was jesting, of course, because nothing turned him on more than seeing this perfect little BSAA soldier resisting with all his might.

For one who obviously had taken countless dicks in his life, he sure was good at squeezing.

Brown water began to squirt around the hose. Piers was shaking like a leaf, his intestines screaming for release. As much as he dreaded it, he could no longer hold back.

His strength faltered just for a tiny little bit and the hose came popping out in a huge, disgusting shart. A torrent of loose, sloppy shit poured from his hole, his guts pushing it all out on their own accord. It splattered wetly between his feet, thick and disgusting.

Piers cried in rage and shame as he was forced to purge the content of his bowels before his captor's eyes. He had never been so humiliated in his entire life.

"Good job. You're going great." Wesker said gleefully before hosing him clean with cold water, sending everything down the drain in the floor.

He absolutely loved bearing witness to the complete humiliation of handsome men. To see their pride shattered, their ego torn apart. Everyone had their breaking point and, for most, this was it. Few and far between were the guys who had no issues with having a spectator while forced to defecate.

Wesker then reinserted the flowing hose into his prisoner's ass, knowing it would take a few deep cleanses for him to be impeccable.

Pain returned, harsher than before, and Piers wailed, furious to be so helpless. He pulled on the handcuffs so hard he cut himself.

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck! I hate you."

"You wouldn't be in this situation if Chris wasn't doing such a poor job at rescuing you. I'm sure he's gotten my message. He knows where this base is. It's not exactly secret. Still, no words from the BSAA. That's strange, isn't?"

"I'll fucking kill you, I swear. I… sw- aaah." Piers couldn't finish his sentence. The hose popped out of him again and dirty water erupted out of his twitching hole.

It hurt so damn bad. He wanted to die. How could Wesker be turned on watching this? That sadistic fuck.

He really hoped Chris would hurry up. He didn't think he'd be able to withstand going through this kind of ordeal again.

"Come on, push. Get those guts nice and empty." Wesker commanded without results.

Unbelievable, that dumb brat still had the gall to disobey.

Little did the boy know, that turned him on even more. He was rock hard in his pants and couldn't wait until that lovely, toned ass was cleaned up and ready to receive a thorough pounding.

He'd gladly watch that arrogant little soldier shit himself every day until he would be broken to the point where he'd do so with a smile on his dumb face.

He punched Piers in the stomach again, forcing whatever remained inside of him out in a slimy, bubbling fart.

"You'll save yourself a lot of pain if you learn to obey quickly."

Once more, Wesker hosed down the mess and stuck it up his prisoner's unwilling anus.

Piers felt like he was on the verge of freezing. His teeth were clacking together in his mouth. The stench was unbearable. He prayed he didn't have much more shit left inside of him. He hadn't had a lot to eat lately, surely he'd be easy to clean.

His intestines began to bloat and cramp, straining under duress. This time, with his pride in pieces, he didn't wait for it to become unbearable. He pushed, forcing the water out in long squirts, like he was pissing out of his ass.

He looked at the drain between his feet. The liquid flowing seemed to be perfectly clear now.

"One last time, just to make sure." said Wesker as he filled him up again.

Piers bit back an insult.

It's nearly over, he told himself.

Again, he emptied his screaming bowels, shivering, feeling cold all the way up to his chest.

He was almost looking forward to getting a hot dick inside of him next.

"I'll leave your guts to settle for a bit. I'll be back later." Wesker spoke casually as he turned the water off.

He then approached his captive and smiled before placing a hand on his shaky shoulder, "Hang in there."

"Oh, go fuck yourself!" Piers growled, filled with rage.

He heard the door close behind him and the key turning in the lock.

He curled his toes underneath his feet as much as he could. He stood on the cold, wet cement and they were growing numb. His entire body was covered in goosebumps, his nipples were so hard they hurt, his bottom lip shook uncontrollably.

He looked down and his dick was ridiculously tiny in the low temperature.

As if he wasn't feeling completely emasculated already.

Every now and then, he got a slightly stronger tremor and some water trickled out of his ass. He couldn't believe he had just shat himself in front of someone.

He didn't know if he could ever recover from such humiliation.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, Piers gets a true taste of Wesker's kinks.
> 
> Warning : cbt, fisting, prolapse, watersports  
> The limits of human anatomy will be pushed beyond realism from now on. It's porn, just don't think about it.

It took a while before Wesker reappeared. When he finally did, Piers was dry again and the stench of the room had completely dissipated.

"Did you miss me?" the older man asked.

His question received no reply. Not that it mattered.

All he cared about right now was getting inside of that sumptuous ass.

Piers shuddered as he heard a zipper being pulled down and felt a hot, hard glans rub against his entrance. The warmth of it even more pronounced given how cold he felt.

He knew this was going to happen eventually. He knew he would get thoroughly raped by his captor. Tonight was the night, it seemed. He could only hope this wouldn't last too long, but he doubted lady luck was on his side. Everything had been horrible since his capture. He still had hopes of being rescued, but he began to doubt he'd still be intact when said rescue would arrive.

Wesker used only spit to slick his member. He already felt generous enough not to take him dry. The boy didn't deserve any further kindness.

Anyway, he was convinced he had enough experience to handle this easily. That was the hole of a real bottom slut if he'd ever seen one.

One push and he was all the way inside. His length glided easily past the supple muscle. No resistance, just smooth, enveloping warmth sucking him in.

Even a loud, depraved moan from his prisoner.

"Oh yes, I knew you'd like that." Wesker purred into his ear, "That cunt sure is hungry."

He wasted no time and began pounding away, making sure to wreck that ass properly.

Piers hated himself for being unable to keep his voice down. He just slobbered and groaned as he was fucked so hard. His captor was insanely strong and indefatigable. He hammered him relentlessly and, to his distaste, it felt amazing.

He desperately tried to shut this feeling down, to keep himself from enjoying this, but he couldn't.

It was good. So damn good. Big, uncut, and veiny, just the way he liked it. He was also tremendously warm too. Warmer than a normal human. Somehow, that heat inside made him all the more aware of how good that dick was rubbing against his inner walls. He was burning up and, after being so cold, he absolutely loved it.

As horrible a man as Wesker was, he knew exactly how to give it to him. Perfect size, perfect angle. A nice, rough piledriving that drove him crazy in the best possible ways.

He barely lasted a minute. After being on edge since his capture and unable to touch himself, he couldn't hold back and came in a grunt between gritting teeth. A copious amount of semen dribbled from his length while it bounced in orgasmic spasms.

A cold laughter behind him added to his shame.

"Are you premature or are you really that much into it?"

Piers pinched his lips, brows furrowed in anger. He resented himself almost as much as he did that monster tormenting him right now.

"You blow your load from getting raped open like a complete slut." Wesker snickered, "Are all the guys in the BSAA like this or are you just special?"

No response.

"Perhaps I should pay your unit a visit someday. Go through the whole platoon in one night."

Wesker kept fucking the boy for nearly an hour, making him come a few more times throughout. He himself had yet to peak though. He was so in control of his own body, he could delay his pleasure for as long as needed. He wanted to prolong his fun. He was far from done with his captive.

He looked at his lovely, round ass, now so red from being slammed into without any break. His anus was clinging to his shaft every time he pulled out like starving, swollen lips.

"So loose." he laughed as he stretched the hole around his member using his thumb, "I was mistaken earlier. This isn't even a cunt. It's a twat. A sloppy, broken twat. Completely used up and worthless. No one would pay for a whore this messed up."

His thumb soon became four fingers, toying with the hole. He could almost shove half of his hand in along with his erection. That little soldier had quite a bit of talent.

"Can you take a fist? I'd love to punch something other than your face for once."

Piers blushed from having gotten so slack. This wasn't his usual self. But he didn't say anything to try and defend his honour. He had gone silent in the last twenty minutes. Sometimes, a soft, shuddering whine would escape him, but otherwise, he didn't have the strength to speak much.

As good as the sex had felt in the beginning, such a crazy pounding maintained for so long had taken its toll on him. He felt numb. It hurt when he came. His balls had nothing left to give. His suspicion that they were drugging him were confirmed by his constant erection. There was no way he would still be hard after taking so much abuse. It was horribly painful.

Perhaps that was the reason he was so loose too.

But it was the least of his worries now. He was threatened by something far worse. Wesker was already more than well-endowed, filling him up perfectly. He doubted he would be able to handle what he was planning next.

However, it wasn't the size that scared him the most.

It was the strength.

He had seen that bastard punch straight through people, bulletproof vest and all. His fists left craters into concrete and dents into armoured steel. He had witnessed guns bent in two and vehicles toppled, all effortlessly.

Not to mention the fact that, unlike his member, which would eventually cause him to orgasm and thus dampen his ardour, his arms would not tire. Ever.

And that was truly terrifying.

Wesker left the cell again. This time, he returned with a humongous bottle of thick lubricant. He could fuck with only spit, but he absolutely couldn't fist without lube.

He squatted in front of his prisoner. He wasn't going to place himself behind him. He wanted to see the look on his stupid, busted face when he would wreck him good.

He coated his hand in the gelatinous liquid and began to ease his fingers inside of the boy's sloppy hole. The look of sheer terror in his eyes was just marvellous.

"Never been fisted before? You're in luck, this is what I do best."

Loose indeed, his hand popped right in with minimal effort. He worked it slowly at first, letting his lovely little victim's body adjust. He didn't intend on giving him a whole lot of time to do so, but he certainly wasn't keen on causing any serious damage. He couldn't throw away his new toy.

Not yet.

After a few minutes, Wesker pulled his hand out, lubed it up further, balled it into a fist, and began punching.

Piers screamed in both pleasure and pain as the merciless, hard knuckles pumped in and out of him, so fast and relentless. He had never been penetrated by something so big before. It was a brutal experience. His prostate was pummelled over and over.

Back when he was still a mere human, Wesker had been held back by the limitations of his own body.

Not anymore.

He never grew tired. He could pump his hand into the boy for hours on end if he so desired. He had no intentions to let him rest. He was usually very caring when fisting, but this one was a prisoner, he could afford to break him good.

He punched his hole swollen and red. His anus grew so engorged, it looked like it had been pumped. His rhythm was as vigorous as it was unfaltering. He knew the precise angle for his knuckles to meet the boy's sweet spot in a hard shove every time. He wasn't going to give him a second to recover. He fisted the come out of him and continued until his motions also drew a long stream of urine out as well.

"Pissing yourself from having your twat punched. Such a good little slut." he purred while licking his lips, allowing the warm liquid to pour all over his chest.

That outfit was ruined now, but it didn't matter at all. He loved nothing more than to see his slaves completely lose control when he worked them so expertly.

He put his free hand under the long trickle, letting it douse his glove, cupping some in his upturned palm. He then took his fist out of the boy's abused hole and replaced it with the other one, now covered in urine. He shoved it as deep as he could.

"You like feeling your own piss inside of you, stupid whore?"

Piers couldn't even speak anymore. He couldn't even feel shame for involuntarily relieving himself like this. His tongue was lolling from his drooling mouth while his eyes were crossed behind heavy lids. His mind was shattered into a million pieces after countless orgasms had been mercilessly punched out of him.

He couldn't even hear words. It was just a muddled jumble. All he could hear was the incessant sound of fist beating his hole up. Wet, sticky thud after wet, sticky thud. A damp, empty echo following each, testament to how wide his gape was now.

He hated how good this felt.

Wesker tried to work his hand deeper, but the boy could only take it a few inches past his wrist. How disappointing. His hole was stretchy, but his insides sure lacked training.

He did not let that dampen his fun though. He kept fist-fucking him, punching his doughy anus without rest. It was completely ruined. Limp, leathery, and sagging.

"Have you ever prolapsed, slut?" Wesker asked as he toyed with the fleshy lips, rubbing them like he would dripping labia, "Surely after being mounted by all those beefy bulls in the BSAA, your sloppy twat must have turned inside-out."

No reply from the boy. He just hung from the chains, his legs no longer supporting his weight. He was still conscious, but his mind was far gone. All he could do now was twitch and gasp at irregular intervals.

Wesker held his toned ass spread with both hands, now so beautifully wrecked.

"Come on, push a big, beautiful rosebud out for daddy."

Even though he heard the command, Piers didn't really have the strength to do anything. He tried pushing, and he did prolapse, but mostly it was gravity combined with how abused his insides were that caused him to do so.

"Good little slut. Look at that. It's huge." Wesker laughed happily at the generous meal before his eyes. Bright red, swollen and slimy. Nothing in this world looked more delicious.

He did not hesitate to treat himself, swallowing the whole thing, deepthroating it eagerly. After all that beaten rectum had been through, it had the most wonderful flavour. A pungent swirl of sweat, urine, anal juice, and lube combined with the natural coppery tang of ruined inner walls.

Wesker's hard-on twitched with the irrepressible urge to fuck that prolapse good. But he used patience for now. He kept on enjoying this delicious serving of boy meat. The best cut of them all.

Despite himself, Piers softly moaned. That mouth was immensely soothing after all of those hard punches he had endured.

He regained a bit of his wits from the respite and found himself beyond ashamed. He had gaped before, but never had he prolapsed so badly. He could feel so much of his insides outside of him.

And now his captor was gagging on it. His face buried between his legs, so far that his drained balls were now resting upon the older man's forehead.

Having sucked his fill of distended rectum for many long minutes, Wesker rose back up, walked behind the boy, and stuffed the gorgeous rosebud with his erection. He wrapped his fingers around it, so fleshy and squishy, and jerked himself off with it.

"That feels good, you worthless comedump?" Wesker asked as he gave a hard spank to his prisoner's rear. This was heaven to him. There was just one tiny little thing missing for it to truly be perfect, "Want that wrecked twat filled with piss?"

Piers squirmed helplessly. It was such an abnormal sensation to be stuck like this. He felt hollow deep down, but he could also feel his captor inside while he was actually outside of him. He could hardly bear it.

Would his body revert back to normal afterwards?

That got him quite anxious.

"Come on, beg for it, dumb slut." Wesker ordered as he slapped his prisoner's balls repeatedly to encourage him to speak.

"Ngh... aaah... piss inside of me please, sir." the young soldier screamed in pain, tears streaming upon his cheeks.

That was the last thing he wanted, but at this point, he would say anything to get this over with.

"Mmh, no. Call me 'master' instead. My husband calls me 'sir' in bed, I'd rather keep that word for him only."

"Yes, master."

Piers couldn't believe the words coming out of his mouth.

"Such a good little slave." Wesker laughed as he began to fill the saggy, red flesh sock around his dick. He had to hold it around the hem so it wouldn't leak everywhere, "Let's fill it up. Just like a water balloon."

He was having so much fun right now. He really enjoyed his new toy, no matter how ornery. He certainly had a lot less fight in him after being fisted to hell and back though.

"What do you say, slut?" he asked as he gave another good slap to the boy's sack with his free hand. He then wiped his palm all over his crying face, drenching it in all of those viscous fluids that coated his glove.

"Th-thank you, master."

"You love my piss?"

"Aaaah... yes... master."

"Say it."

"I love your piss, master."

With an elated growl, Wesker let go of his face and squeezed the prolapse hard into his palms instead, letting all the urine inside splash everywhere. Laughing at the mess.

Soon, his hilarity was kicked up a notch when Piers came from the sensation.

The boy mewled helplessly, crying and trembling. This couldn't be healthy to have his insides manhandled like that. He was so scared of being irreversibly broken now. And he couldn't believe he had just gotten an orgasm from that.

How tempting it was to beg for mercy. But he knew this would only make things worse.

"Don't worry, I'll fill you back up." Wesker grunted as he began fucking the rosebud relentlessly. Every shove was accompanied by a gooey, tacky, squelching noise along with a big squirt of piss and lube.

He had rarely been so turned on in his life. This almost rivalled the sensations he got when getting frisky with Tyrants.

Too bad the boy wasn't into it. That was the only thing he deplored, no matter how satisfying it was to torture one of Chris' little goody two-shoes soldiers. It would be even more delightful if he could somehow corrupt his captive into actually enjoying this.

Perhaps it would be a lost cause, given how loyal to his captain this kid was.

No matter, he had still been an amazing plaything so far.

Perhaps, if Chris kept taking his sweet time saving him, eventually, he would break and take real pleasure in being treated like a whore.

One thing was certain, if no one came to claim the poor boy soon, Wesker had the firm intention of letting all of his Majini have a go at him. Hundreds of them, one after the other, as many as he could handle at the same time. He'd have him satisfy the entire army.

How entertaining a spectacle this would be. He'd make sure to film such an unprecedented event.

That fantasy ultimately sent him over the edge. Just like he had done earlier, he held the ruined intestine tightly around his own length, filling it up with come this time. Plenty of it. He was so turned on, and he had waited for so long, his body had a lot to give. The soft rectum grew heavy with his load.

"I think I got your prolapse pregnant, boy." he giggled as he gently pat the swollen flesh.

Piers quivered from the pressure of being filled beyond his capacity. His insides felt so taut outside of him. It was gruelling.

He desperately wanted to push in order to empty all of it, but knew, if he tried, he'd probably just increase the size of his rose. It didn't even look like a flower anymore, it looked like a glistening red tail flopping out of his beaten ass.

Carefully, Wesker pulled out while holding the bloated rectum firmly shut between his fingers. It was a difficult task given how slippery it was.

"That's so fucking hot." he purred under his breath before leaning down to kiss it, "Ready for a big splash? Don't disappoint me now."

He released his hold and all of his sperm poured out in a thick, bubbling mess. A cascade of white. Rich and creamy. It was such a gorgeous display to his eyes.

He had never messed someone up so bad before.

What a wonderful, fulfilling experience.

Once empty, he gently eased the poor rosebud back in its rightful place. It had worked hard enough for tonight. It deserved a rest.

He pushed his hand inside one last time, just to make sure everything was in order.

He gave a few playful taps to the gaping hole afterwards, praising it for a job well-done. It answered back with a big, sloppy lube fart.

God Wesker wanted to fuck it again.

Unfortunately, he had previous engagements tonight.

"What do you say, slut?" he asked as he put both his index and middle fingers from both hands inside his prisoner's mouth and stretched his puffy cheeks into a forced smile.

"Th-thank yuh, mastuh." Piers could barely articulate like this. His drooling lips strained to touch one another.

"How's your ass?"

"E-et'sh deshtroyed, mastuh. Et 'urtsh."

"You're my dumb little slut?"

"Ngh... ye... y-yesh, mastuh. Am... yuh dumb... lettle... shlut... aah."

"Good."

Wesker gave a dry push at the back of Piers' head with a look of disdain upon his face.

While his prisoner sobbed and trembled, he went and lowered the chain until he was sitting down, but with his arms still uncomfortably up in the air. He'd leave him like this for the night, with his ruined ass soaking in the puddle of cold piss and semen on the floor.

He walked back in front of him, stepping into the mess himself.

"Clean my dick, you worthless slut. That's all you're good for." he commanded, slapping his prisoner in the face repeatedly with his slimy length, still quite hard due to how aroused he had been previously.

Without hesitation, Piers swallowed the whole thing. Bobbing his head, sucking desperately.

He prayed this was finally over. He was ruined. His entire body ached. He couldn't bear it anymore.

What the hell was Chris doing?

If he didn't hurry up, he feared his captor would fuck him to death. He was a complete madman. He had never met someone so utterly vile.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Clean my balls too. Don't be lazy." Wesker hissed, impatient, as he punched the boy while he still had his mouth full.

Piers complied, taking the entire sack between his swollen lips and rolling his tongue around its surface. It was disgusting. He was swallowing both sweat and pubes, everything permeated by a strong aftertaste of urine.

"Look at the god you're worshipping, dumb slut."

Obeying, Piers grunted as his furious, tawny eyes shot upwards.

A sudden flash momentarily blinded him and he had to blink numerous times before his vision recovered.

Then he noticed his own smartphone in Wesker's hand.

"I'm sending this to your dear Chris. Perhaps that will make him hurry up."

Scandalized, Piers backed away as much as he could.

Did this bastard truly mail a picture to his captain?

Was he really that heartless?

"Oh you fuck--"

A strong pull on his hair and his mouth was stuffed full of dick again. He trashed and growled, enraged.

This time, he did not hesitate, he bit, hard, but instead of a wail of agony from the older man, he just received a hard punch that nearly put him unconscious.

His head swam. His cheek throbbed. His jaw hung limp as his throat was fucked mercilessly.

Wesker had barely winced when the teeth had sunk into his flesh. His pain threshold had grown so high since his transformation, nothing bothered him anymore. He had been torn apart. He had been electrocuted. He had been burned alive. It wasn't the weak dentition of an irate little boy that was going to impress him.

"For a dumb slut who loves it up the ass so much, you're really terrible at pleasing a man. It's amazing to think you've managed to get laid to the point of having your hole turn into a twat, yet never learned to show some respect."

Although he was dazed, Piers heard the demeaning comment and chose to ignore it. He knew his own worth. If Wesker had to put him down in order to feel powerful, that wasn't his problem. He wasn't going to let this bastard hurt him emotionally on top of physically. He could keep on talking, he wasn't listening.

When the older man finally backed off, Piers coughed and spat to the floor, which earned him another hard punch.

It didn't matter. It was finally over.

"Too bad you're such a feisty little slut. You and I could have so much fun together. But, as it turns out, you're not even worth polishing my balls."

"Oh shut the fuck up already. Captain Redfield will put a bullet through your head once he gets here." the young soldier barked with furor in his tearful, exhausted eyes. He couldn't bear to hear that annoying, smug voice anymore. The mere sound of it made his skin crawl. He had done enough. He just wanted to be left alone.

His captor scoffed as he pulled his magnum out.

Instantly, Piers' stomach dropped at the sight and he struggled against the chains that bound him.

"I'd like to see him try." Wesker smiled before cocking the gun and pointing it between the boy's eyes.

The young soldier looked straight at him, livid.

It's truly over now, he thought.

Perhaps it was for the best.

But then Wesker rose the silver muzzle to his own temple.

A deafening bang resonated within the room. Piers' head pounded and his ears rang.

He stared at the older man. A droplet of blood slowly trailed down his pale cheek while smoke rose from the weapon. He still had that amused look upon his face.

Wesker lowered his gun back into its holster and then wrenched the bullet lodged in the side of his head with a slight wince.

He showed his prisoner the bloody piece of metal, still oh so entertained.

"I'd really like to see him try."

Without missing a beat, he forced the bullet into Piers' mouth.

It burned on his tongue and he struggled to spit, but his jaw was held shut forcefully.

"Swallow."

He trashed in his captor's grip, but couldn't free himself. Eventually, the bullet sank further down his gullet and he had no choice but to comply.

Wesker then shoved his fingers nearly down his throat to make sure he had obeyed. He smiled before acquainting his knuckles with his face once more.

"Maybe I'll find it again next time I punch your guts inside-out."

He then rolled a discarded scrap of the boy's uniform into a ball, drenched it in the puddle on the ground, and stuffed it into his busted, bleeding mouth.

"Good night, you dumb little slut." he purred before leaving.

In the gaol corridor, he fished Piers' smartphone from his pocket.

His message was marked as seen.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, Wesker gets some helping hands to torment his prisoner.  
> Warning : gangrape, smegma, ryona, voyeurism, double penetration, spitroasting, come inflation, come vomiting, prolapse

Piers had been raped over and over again by his captor for the past few days.

A routine had been set in place.

The same mindless servant of Wesker came into his cell every morning, at least he assumed it was morning, to feed him, shave him, and then inject him in the neck with an unknown substance.

This has to be what they're drugging me with, Piers thought.

It seemed like they no longer cared to do it while he was passed out. Or perhaps they had never cared at all and he just so happened to be awake at the time of his dosage.

Afterwards, the zombie proceeded to wash him both inside and outside.

He had to admit, even though he had been a very sexually active guy back then, his ass had never been so utterly pristine before. One could eat out of it and it would be cleaner than their dinner table.

It was still embarrassing to be forced to shit in front of someone, but at least that certain someone was no longer a person. Not really.

He much preferred it over Wesker watching him with a creepy smile and a boner.

Afterwards, he was usually left alone for a few hours.

All he had to do was wait until the devil appeared.

"I have a surprise for you, slut."

That was the first thing Piers heard today when Wesker entered his cell alongside two guards.

He didn't care to say anything about the insult. He didn't care to say anything at all. He had learned that it was in his best interest to remain silent as much as possible.

He no longer had anything to say anyway.

The two brutes untied his arms and pulled him up to his feet. They then escorted him out of jail, following behind their master.

Piers hadn't been out since his arrival. The harsh lights of the corridor almost blinded him, hurting his eyes. Shame crept up to his face in a blush as they paraded him around completely naked.

Not that anyone still had a mind of their own around here.

He was happy to finally get to walk though. His legs were cramped from being forced to either sit or stand still all day long.

He wondered where they were headed. As much as he hoped he was being released, he doubted this was the case. He knew his captor wouldn't look so damn jolly if Chris had finally showed up.

After a few minutes, they arrived at large hangar that seemed to serve as a storeroom for various supplies. Countless boxes were stacked together against the bare walls, all the way up to the ceiling high above.

The place was teeming with Majini who all stood at attention as they entered.

A sudden rush of terror caused Piers to freeze.

He stood, stiff as a board, growing paler out of fear. If the two guards hadn't been holding him, he would have sunk to the floor.

He knew he was about to be thrown into the crowd to be used as a plaything. There were hundreds of them. No way he would survive.

Wesker approached one of his numerous soldiers. Though Africa was far behind him now, he had kept the name 'Majini' for them, enjoying the ring of it. He had servants from all over the world in his service, all linked by the same hivemind he had engineered himself out of Las Plaga.

He turned his attention towards his captive.

"They're all so full of energy today." he smirked as he trailed his gloved fingers over heaving abs, "And your task is to satisfy them all like the good slut you are."

He lowered the Majini's camouflage-patterned pants and stroked him hard with an expert hand. He then cupped his big, sagging balls in his palm.

His comfortable behaviour made it quite obvious that he was used to fucking his loyal soldiers.

"I've ordered them abstinent for the past week. They're extremely excited and just overflowing with your favourite drink. Look how swollen these are. I'm sure he's desperate for you to empty them."

Piers didn't even have time to protest before he was pushed against the big, bulky zombie who wasted no time ramming his ass with his giant cock, dragging him down to the floor with him.

No lube, no spit, no mercy.

Not that he would need any given how slack he still was from the previous abuse.

"Fuck! No, let go of me, you gross fucking pig." Piers yelled in panic, trashing in the smelly embrace. The hold was like a vice and he lacked the strength to break free.

As more approached, he noticed how all of them were unwashed and disgusting. Their overtaken minds not caring much for personal hygiene anymore. They were nothing more than hollow shells of their once proud selves. It was obvious their master had made sure they would be extra ripe just for this occasion.

Another one impaled him mercilessly. It felt horribly tight and now he feared he would truly be broken. But, once again, his body betrayed him and accepted the two colossal intrusions along with a shameful orgasm that had him wailing.

As he was dazed by unwanted pleasure, yet another Majini bent his head backwards and began relentlessly fucking his throat, his heavy balls slapping against his runny nose.

He didn't know if it was due to the mutation or uncleanliness, but the monster tasted so strong, it was sickening. It was a mix of rank piss and smegma. The smell just as unbearable. It made his eyes water.

He choked and shook his head. It was horrible. He couldn't take it.

"Come on, clean those dicks properly, slut. Show us all how hungry you are." Wesker hissed as he grabbed his prisoner's head with both hands and rammed it a few times into the creature's malodorous pubes.

"You don't want to know what I'll do to you if you don't perform well today."

It was then that Piers noticed one of the Majini was filming the whole thing. He screeched around the intrusion in his mouth and trashed some more. That goddamn bastard. How dare he record this?

He swore he would find a way to kill him for good if he ever made it out.

His agitation greatly displeased his captor who punched him hard into the stomach. The hit knocked the breath out of his lungs.

He weakly kept trying to free himself.

Another hard punch, this time to his crotch. He almost threw up from the pain.

He stopped fighting.

One after the other, the Majini fucked Pier's open mouth, spurting their thick, disgusting come down his throat. Same for his ass, there were always two of them inside of him at the same time. Draining their balls and letting their place be taken by another right after they were done.

It was endless.

He was never left empty, not even for a brief instant. Some even returned for second servings. Some couldn't hold back and ejaculated all over his body. He was covered in it, dripping and slimy. The smell alone was enough to make him gag.

Two in his hole. One in his mouth. One in each hand. One gliding between his pecs. Some were rubbing against his feet. Some squeezed in his armpits. Others were slapped against his face and stomach and even his thighs. Bulging glands teased his sensitive nipples. Gripping fingers sank into his flesh.

And he couldn't stop coming from it.

Majini after Majini, his hole was ruined. Swollen and inside-out. His belly was full of sperm. His lips were puffy and red from sucking so many dicks. He had long lost count of them, unable to focus. The taste was revolting. He had leftover smegma and pubes all around his mouth.

Dick after dick after dick. He was plowed and seeded. Filled to the brim, yet never given a moment of respite.

He reeked so badly of sweat and come now, even Wesker wrinkled his nose. But, to him, this was the best kind of stench.

What a nightmare, Piers lamented in his foggy mind. All things considered, he much preferred when it was only his captor messing him up.

The Majini were as brutal as can be. A relentless onslaught of turgid phalluses beating him up all over his body. The whole surface of his skin was inflamed and even bruised.

Especially his face. His mouth had been fucked so mercilessly, his lips were peeling and bleeding. Tears ran freely from his eyes, not only due to his distress, but also from all the bodily fluids that had leaked into them.

Now two of the zombies forced him to alternate between their gross shafts. Throating one for a few seconds, then throating the other. Switching over and over until their release. Slimy, disgusting, and pungent. So much of it. His stomach was stuffed to the point of hurting, yet more dicks were crammed into his mouth and even more into his ass. His anus was limp and saggy, beaten into submission by the countless erections that had abused it.

"S-stop... mmph... mmh..." he desperately tried to plead between two hard, slimy cocks down his gullet. He couldn't take it anymore. It just kept going for hours on end and their numbers didn't seem to be decreasing.

Sometimes, instead of being forced to suck dick, some Majini would rub their smelly ass crack in his face, urging him to toss their salad. Piers just let his tongue stuck out of his mouth, letting the monsters rub themselves against it. Some of them were rather loose and he could taste their dripping insides. 

He hated it. His face was relentlessly assaulted by cocks and balls and asses.

The more time went on, the more Majini took their pleasure with his body, the more he feared he would die. He was so numb. So sore. His everything ached. There was so much come everywhere, the air was now heavy from its dampness. The smell was nauseating.

He groaned in pain, his belly now so full it was swollen. It cramped and ached. The constant rocking of the two huge members plowing him so hard along with the one fucking his throat raw made him feel ill.

Wesker caressed the taut skin. It was bouncing with the motions and shifted under his hands. So soft.

"My men are so good, they got your ass pregnant."

He loved teasing him like this.

"But I don't think a slut would make a great parent."

With a malicious smirk, he stepped hard on the boy's round abdomen. Once. Then twice. Stomping him down.

Piers coughed and gagged around the erection in his mouth. Plenty of bile and rancid sperm overflowed out of his nose.

Wesker ordered the Majini fucking his prisoner's face to pull away so he wouldn't drown in his own vomit.

As soon as his mouth was freed, Piers disgorged all the contents in his stomach, which was only come, nothing else. It's all he had been fed today. Whatever his captor was drugging him with, it also kept him alive on very little sustenance.

That was absolutely revolting and he threw up again at the thought that his only meals lately had consisted of semen. His disgust further increased by the fact that the two Majini fucking his ass didn't care to stop as he was sick.

Amidst the sounds of groans and pants and gags, a tinkle upon the floor caught Wesker's attention. He grabbed the small piece of metal that had fallen in the puddle and smiled.

His bullet.

"I knew I'd find it again."

He slipped it into his pocket and ordered the boy's mouth to be stuffed once more now that he was done puking all the come that had accumulated inside of him. It was time to fill him back up.

But poor Piers was barely conscious anymore.

"Hey, don't pass out on me now, stupid slut." Wesker chided as he gave a couple wake-up slaps to his prisoner, not without a certain violence, "Do your duty."

And so the ordeal carried on and on. Time slowed down to a halt. So many dicks. So much come. They were all over him. Trading place every few minutes. None of them lasted that long, which somehow made it even more degrading. They all just cared about emptying themselves.

Whenever Piers seemed to be about to faint, his captor would hit him awake.

Eventually, he was lifted up by two Majini, side by side, who impaled him. Then, a third one approached. His meaty shaft, dripping and twitching, joined both others inside.

Wesker clapped at the sight, "Triple penetration. Fantastic! Truly a loose, wrecked twat you have. It's a mercy those lovely men here are brainless, otherwise no one would want to fuck such a mess."

Piers grunted as the three bulging cocks plowed him. He was stretched even wider than when he had been fisted. So full he pissed himself. Had his face not been so red already, he would have been seen blushing.

Even more horrible was the fact that he came almost instantly. His entire rectum tingled, desperate to be stretched and rubbed at all time. Penetration had never felt this good before and the bigger it was, the better.

Yet, the worst part about this was Wesker staring at him, looking oh so devious. Oh so proud of himself. And the fact that he was getting this on camera too.

What would he even do with that footage? A personal porno movie? Or would he use it to blackmail Chris somehow?

At least they weren't filming with his own smartphone, but that was a meagre consolation.

And thus three became the new standard. His gaping hole accommodated such a large size now. At least, in this position, no one could rape his mouth anymore. But that didn't prevent some Majini from shoving their dirty fingers in there or forcing him to drink piss and semen from plastic cups.

No matter how rough. No matter how disgusting. Piers still peaked repeatedly from being abused. His prostate was hammered into without cease. His hole was stretched near its breaking point.

And he was hard. So hard.

He had gone to sleep with an erection earlier and still woke up with one. It was abnormally sensitive too. Even his hole felt way too aware. Every nerve in his body begged for touch.

It was like he could climax from caresses alone. However, most of what he got were hits. But it didn't even matter. It turned him on either way. His balls were empty, but his body still kept trying to ejaculate.

Every orgasm raped out of him was a whole new level of excruciating pain and bliss.

What the hell was his captor drugging him with? He prayed it wasn't addictive. He prayed it hadn't permanently altered his body. He didn't want to remain in this state forever. His skin was so receptive, he feared just wearing clothes would have him writhe in pleasure.

Wesker was enjoying the show quite a lot. That boy had some real talent. He had gone through so many of his Majini. Some with impressive dicks that dwarfed even his own.

Truly an amazing little slut they had captured. He would be disappointed to relinquish him.

But if Chris came to claim his protégé, he'd give him back.

That was a very big "if", of course.

Chris may never have been the smartest guy around, but he sure knew how to recognize a trap when he saw one. And poor little soldier boy here looked exactly like bait. Bait that would lure him straight into his old nemesis' clutches.

A place no one ever wanted to be as Piers was now discovering firsthand.

As much as Wesker was interested in making his former coworker his plaything again, he knew it wouldn't be wise. Therefore, the boy would have to do.

He was a great replacement for Chris. He couldn't complain.

After all, he was not one to pass up the opportunity to test some of his recent research on a fresh subject. He only had to make sure not to cause any irreversible damage. Stretching a hole out was not what he would categorize as such.

He smiled when Piers became sick and threw up for the third time. He knew the boy would die of exhaustion before going through all of his slaves. He had no intention of killing him, no matter how much he threatened him with it.

Death was not the point.

Pain and humiliation was.

The whole process was filmed for his and his husband's personal satisfaction. Both hellbent on getting back to Chris. They had convened together that torturing him directly would probably not hurt him as much as torturing his best friend. They both knew the proud captain of the BSAA was greatly weakened by his empathy.

Wesker quite enjoyed his new role as a kinky torturer. It was always nice to visit Piers and let off some steam after a long day of work in the lab. With his superhuman abilities, it was like he was built to inflict wanton punishments upon others.

His Majini were also quite good at it too. This heteroclyte band he had carefully amassed from the finest hired mercenaries over the years, all parasited and mindless. He could not rely on any other types of infected. He had never found a way to make himself immune to the virus' mutant pheromones. Only those under his own brand of Las Plaga did not cause him any trouble and were blindly loyal to him.

"Let him go, he's had quite enough for today." he commanded his zombies who instantly obeyed.

Piers fell down to the ground like a rag doll in a pool of thick, cold come.

He couldn't even move anymore.

The fiends around him dispersed, leaving only his jailer, the two guards who had dragged him here, and the cameraman looming before him.

Both his holes leaked come non-stop. Every involuntary twitch of his body making plenty of it gush out with a sloppy, squelching fart.

A stronger hiccup pushed his rectum out of his body and he nearly came again.

"Rough night for a slut, mmh?" Wesker snickered before licking his lips with delight, "Though I bet you couldn't be happier right now. You had so many big, strong men all to yourself."

Oh, what a shame it would be to give this boy away. He was infinitely entertaining and would become even more so when his system had fully adapted to the little viral cocktail he was injecting him with.

His poor skin was bruised black and blue. A wide array of colours until a flash of red caught Wesker's attention.

Glancing upon his prisoner's prolapse, he walked behind him and pat it with the sole of his boot.

"That pretty ass got messed up good. Puts me to shame I wasn't able to do such a marvellous job on you yesterday."

He had never seen a rectum so swollen and angry. Surely the boy's insides felt like they were on fire right now.

He kept teasing the distended intestine, making it jiggle for his own sick amusement. Like a thick jelly oozing with cream. Such a lovely-looking dessert.

He poked the tip of his boot inside, meeting little to no resistance.

He fucked the hole with his foot, able to squeeze more than half of its length within. He kicked the saggy flesh sock, making his way to his anus through it. The black leather now covered in gooey come, further lubricating its passage.

He kicked and kicked, too hard for it to be truly enjoyable. Not that being penetrated by footwear ever would be.

He laughed when the boy twitched. Regardless of how brutal the abuse got, he couldn't deny his pleasure. His body betrayed him at every turn. It was only a matter of time before his mind did so as well.

Denying the lad his peak, Wesker removed his boot. Instead opting to step on the beautiful, defiled rose, pressing it hard against the cold, wet floor, grinding it underneath his sole.

Piers had no strength left to get away from such violence. He just took it, no matter how painful, until his whole body convulsed in a brutal orgasm.

He sobbed, defeated. He knew this wasn't normal. There was no way he could come like this, but his insides were so crazy sensitive. The slightest rub sent intense jolts up his spine, threatening to send him over the edge. Such callous treatment easily prevailed in doing so.

Even suffering got him off now.

This had never happened before.

Wesker smiled, satisfied with how the boy's body was reacting to his depraved experiment. He walked back in front of him, admiring the beautiful mess he was.

"Clean my boot."

A small whine escaped Piers' trembling lips when the slimy sole was pressed hard against his cheek. No matter how much his mouth ached right now, he obeyed, terrified. The taste of his own ruined ass and all of those Majini's sperm invading his senses.

He licked the entire leather surface.

It took a while to truly wipe it clean since he could hardly swallow. A lot of liquid also poured out of his throat since he was so full. It almost felt impossible.

While the boy fulfilled his task, Wesker decided to give him some valuable information.

"You know, I've kept count tonight. You've pleased one hundred and twenty-seven of my loyal soldiers and you came forty-eight times. Though I may be slightly off since you were practically out by the end. I'm certain it was more. Such a cock-loving slut like you probably got off non-stop."

Piers shuddered. It definitely felt like more, but he really didn't need to know the numbers.

Once he was finally done tending to the boot, leaving it shiny like it was brand new, his captor walked back behind him.

He prayed he wouldn't get his innards kicked again. He couldn't keep this up all evening. He was on the verge of drifting away.

What he got instead wasn't much better.

He screamed in agony when the older man punched his prolapse back in and shoved his fist hard against his prostate.

He came once more. His yelp dying strangled in his throat as more semen flooded his maw.

"Make that forty-nine." Wesker laughed as he pulled his hand out carefully so the boy wouldn't flop inside-out again.

He then snapped his fingers and pointed at his prisoner. The two Majini guards grabbed a hold of Piers and hauled him back to his cell without the company of their master.

There he was washed down with a hose. The pressure of the ice cold water over his overstimulated nerves was unbearable.

He screamed and begged throughout the whole thing. At least his captor was not there to punish him for doing so.

Then he was tied with his arms up again. His legs were like cotton, unable to bear his weight. He feared his shoulders might dislocate. And he was so cold, completely soaked and left to hang in this miserable prison.

He cried, his tears being the only warmth he felt other than the gooey sperm that was still leaking out of his ass. It was almost burning compared to how freezing his skin was.

"Captain... please don't leave me here."


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, Piers gets thoroughly explored.  
> Warning : sounding, watersports

Piers awoke to another day in hell. The Majini had ruined him yesterday and his body was still reeling from it. His destroyed ass was killing him, his arms were cold, asleep from being bound up and supporting his weight for hours. He had slept very little, uncomfortably dangling from his chains.

Not long after he had regained his senses, one of Wesker's zombified soldiers came to give him some meagre sustenance as well as his injection.

He still couldn't figure out what they were giving him. A custom cocktail, no doubt. He certainly could feel its effects beginning to take their toll on him. In the early days of his captivity, he had only been mildly horny, plagued by an erection in constant need of attention.

Now, the sensation was atrocious and being hard was the least of his worries. The drug addled his mind, clouded his judgement, and lessened his will to fight.

He was so turned on it was difficult not to beg for sex.

As such, when Wesker entered his cell merely an hour later, Piers had to use all of his willpower not to give in. His erection bounced, leaking precome, while his mouth filled with drool at the sight of his captor's sizeable bulge.

At least Piers knew that whenever that blond bastard came into his cell, it was for sex, so he wouldn't suffer from this unwanted arousal for too long.

"I've got some toys for you today, slut." said Wesker in an almost sing-song tone, dragging a metal stool nearby and setting a black leather case upon it before rubbing his hands together gleefully.

He then stared at his prisoner's hard-on, jumping up and down, visibly happy to see him, "You know, for a submissive bottom whore, you sure have a nice dick."

Piers had no reply to the praise. He just kept ogling the older man's very obvious erection, putting a strain on his tight pants.

Drool came flowing from his parted lips. He couldn't take his eyes off of it.

He wanted it so badly.

Wesker noticed, it was impossible not to, and smiled.

He gave a painful flick to the boy's bobbing member. It really was a nice dick. Had Piers not been a prisoner, he would have loved taking a ride on it.

However, he had different plans in mind for that nice dick today.

He opened the nearby case and marvelled at all those glimmering silver rods before his eyes. So many to choose from.

"I was wondering : have you ever been sounded?"

Piers shook his head, holding back a cringe of fear, "N-no, master."

Wesker finally picked a medium-sized one, not too big to the point where it would hurt, but just enough so it would be quite a tight fit.

"Good, let's train that hole as well, then. I trust a good slut like you would be able to handle that size, don't you think?"

Piers stared helplessly as his captor coated the sound in lube, as well as stuffing some of the cold, thick liquid down his urethra.

He was too scared to say anything. Most of all, he was too horny to even protest. No matter how much he didn't want this, his body begged to be defiled in every possible way.

He was dying to be touched.

He shivered when he felt the cold metal entering his meatus, stuffing it completely.

Wesker let gravity do the trick, allowing the heavy rod to just slide down the shaft by itself.

It burned. It was unbearable. Yet Piers couldn't help but moaning in need. He panted and slobbered, bucking his hips forward despite the pain, impaling his dick down to the base, desperate for more stimulation.

The drug was driving him crazy. He was on the verge of tears, overtaken by shameful pleasure.

Wesker snickered to witness such a strong reaction. He took the sound out, painstakingly slowly, and tapped it upon the boy's sensitive glans, "Enjoying yourself, I see."

He played with the rod underneath the foreskin, stretching it out, allowing the metal to dig hard against the underside of the sensitive corona.

He made his captive squirm a bit before going back to fucking his canal. Gently at first, but needy purrs soon encouraged him to pick up the pace.

He watched in delight as the silver sound went in and out of that hard, dripping dick, flushed in eagerness, already spurting a bit of come here and there.

Piers couldn't stop moaning. The burn inside had subsided and let pleasure take its place. A deep, intense stimulation of his senses. He knew the drug made it even better, but he couldn't worry any less about his altered state of mind at the moment.

He relished that feeling.

He kept meeting the thrusts of the rod with the swaying of his hips, as much as he could in his bound state. All of his initial fear of getting his member penetrated vanished in a blur of ecstasy.

"Greedy slut. You just can't get enough, can you?" Wesker purred at the sight of his captive fucking his own dick on the sound, drunk with lust, "Let's step up our game then, shall we?"

He set the rod back into the case and took two smaller, ribbed ones instead. Together, they were larger in size than the previous.

He slicked them generously and began teasing the young soldier's length with them, "You want this, stupid little whore?"

"Yes. Yes!" Piers couldn't help but beg.

His cock ached to be stuffed again. The tingling in his meatus yearned for those new sounds to work their magic. He nearly climaxed just from feeling them lightly teasing his skin.

"Yes?"

"Yes, master! Please, I beg you. Fuck my dick. Fuck it good."

He blushed at his own words, blurting them without even thinking. At this point, he would do anything to get his release.

"You really want this?" Wesker taunted, drumming on his prisoner's glans with the two sounds before lowering a hand to tug on his plump balls, weighing them down until they ached.

He could feel how full they were into his palm. No doubt the lad was close now.

"God, yes! Yes! Master, please. Torture my dick more. Stuff it. I want it so bad. Hurt me. I'll do anything."

"You're my slave?"

"Yes, master. I'm your slave. Forever. I'll serve you. I promise. I'll be a good slut for you, master. J-just… please let me come."

Satisfied, Wesker slipped one of the sounds in, as deep as it would go, then the second one. He worked each in alternance, stretching that pisshole properly, until he could peer inside between the rods. Come still leaked freely from the boy and, in an excess of mercy, he began stroking his length, allowing him to ejaculate.

Piers mewled, his entire body quaking in a peak so intense he felt it all the way into his extremities. The strain his body went through as it tried to push his load out of his stuffed erection made his orgasm all the more fulfilling.

He had yet to recover from it when the two rods began moving again inside of his now overstimulated and extremely sensitive urethra. Those soft bumps and ridges were rubbing his nerves ablaze. His erection throbbed and quivered, refusing to flag despite the torment.

His moans turned into plaintive whines as he rattled his chains.

The torture felt interminable until, finally, Wesker took the two rods out.

Piers was left shaking from the overload of sensations. His member ached, yet still begged for attention, standing engorged and wide open.

Wesker could hardly contain himself to see it like this, hollowed out, leaking, and yet still so hard, just for him.

He stuffed the orifice with his leather-clad pinky finger, wiggling it around in the defiled canal. He would love to see just how far he could stretch that lovely dick if given the time.

"Ngh… m-master."

The relentless fingering tore a brutal, dry orgasm out of Piers. He sobbed in both pain and bliss. His piss slit stretched to its limit by that big, gloved digit, all of its knuckles shoved deep within.

He couldn't believe that his body was even able to handle that size without breaking. It felt just as good as it hurt. Although his mouth now begged for the torture to end, his hips still bucked on their own accord. His febrile nerves craving this sweet agony.

The drug was truly unravelling his mind. He didn't know how long it would take before he yearned for even harsher punishment.

Numerous slaps were delivered to his empty balls in rapid succession and, again, he peaked even though he truly had nothing left to give.

"You are fully drained now, aren't you?" inquired Wesker, his words trailing into a sadistic laughter, "How about I refill you then?"

Piers had no idea what this entailed nor did he care to ask. He hoped this simply meant filling his ass up. However, when he saw his tormentor producing a long, clear tube out of the black case, he knew he had much more devious plans in mind.

Curse this pervert's sexual creativity.

"First, I want you to piss for me. Get that bladder nice and empty."

Piers blushed, even though he had already relieved himself numerous times in front of Wesker, it still embarrassed him.

Yet, in his current state, his befuddled mind wished for nothing more than to follow orders. Be it the drug or his instinct for survival that bent his will into compliance, he didn't know.

And so, shamefully, he obeyed, even though it was difficult to urinate while erect.

He put all of his will into it and, after about a minute of struggling, the stream finally came flowing. It stung badly as it poured out of his abused canal and he hissed at the unpleasant sensation.

Wesker looked on, licking his smiling lips. Few things were hotter than seeing a lovely, submissive man pissing before his eyes. Especially when doing so on command.

That turned him on so much he freed his own erection and began stroking it under the trickle of hot urine. He was so close, he had to use all of his willpower and very gentle caresses not to come right there and then.

"Such a good, obedient whore." he cooed in approval. The enveloping warmth feeling like heaven on his pent-up dick.

When his captive was finished, Wesker collected the last drop upon his index finger and licked it, savouring its subtle bitterness. Such a delicious treat.

Piers hated how turned on he was to piss himself in front of another man. It was such a degrading, yet sinfully pleasant feeling.

Wesker straightened the thin plastic tube in his hands and lubed both its ends. Carefully, he inserted one of them inside of his erection and the other into Piers', joining them together.

He pushed the tube further down the boy's urethra, all the way into his bladder.

Piers could feel it travelling inside of his member and into his most secret confines. Never before had he thought he'd be penetrated like this, so deeply.

He shuddered as he felt it enter his now empty bladder.

Wesker knew the correct depth from experience and noted the uncomfortable tremor from the boy feeling invaded by a foreign object teasing him so intimately. He was so much fun to torment.

He began masturbating again, jerking his meaty erection, so aroused already that his balls instantly began to tighten. It only took a few expert strokes before he came, his inhuman ejaculate shot up the tube, quickly filling it up.

Piers stared in horror as he saw the white liquid making its way to him and disappearing down his own dick. Already he could feel its abnormal heat pooling deep within him, flooding his bladder to its limit until it became unbearable.

He began to cry, feeling like he was going to burst from the inside. There was too much, the pressure felt heavy and painful. He wanted to relieve himself, but the constant flow prevented him from doing so.

His abdomen grew a bit swollen and he yelped, trashing against his restraints.

It hurt so bad.

Wesker growled in animalistic pleasure as the last few drops of his seed flowed down the tube. As his orgasm ebbed away, he slowly pulled it out of his softening dick. Then he carefully did the same for Piers, gently retrieving the length he had shoved in there to the melody of agonizing cries, so delicious to his ears.

As soon as the object popped out of his prisoner's erection, plenty of his come followed.

Piers couldn't hold back. He was too painfully full and the whole passage was opened wide, it just flowed on its own.

In shame, he pissed another man's sperm out. So much of it. It poured out, thick and slimy, feeling utterly abnormal.

Wesker chuckled at the sight as a long, steady stream of his seed was ejected from Piers' dick, his overstretched urethra creating an impressive stream. It was unlike a proper ejaculation, which came in spurts. This was uninterrupted. Such a gorgeous spectacle of debauchery.

After the young soldier was done relieving himself, Wesker untied the cuffs around his scraped wrists, finally allowing some blood to flow back into his cold arms.

Piers crumbled to the ground, devoid of strength. His whole upper body ached, his muscles being under such a heavy strain for so long. He didn't even care if he was now laying in a puddle of cooling piss and come, he just wanted some well-deserved rest.

"See, when you're a good little whore, you get rewarded. What do you say?"

"Thank you, master."

"Good slut. Try to be more obedient from now on, will you?"

"Y-yes master."

Piers sighed, defeated. He hated himself for admitting it, but was beginning to give up hope that Chris would be coming to save him.

The more he resisted, the more he was humiliated and hurt. It was in his best interest to just bend to his captor's will.

He would do anything Wesker wanted.

He would be a good whore for him.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, Piers tries out a nifty little machine.  
> Warning : needles, sex machine, sex toys, insertion, overstimulation

Piers had been offered a few days of respite lately. He didn't really understand why.

He began to wonder if Wesker had left. Perhaps he had just grown bored of playing with him.

Somehow, that kind of hurt his feelings. He didn't really know why.

He missed that blond bastard. If only a little.

And he hated himself for it.

At least it felt good to be able to wander around his cell. He had to sleep on the cold, hard cement floor, which was hellish, but he much preferred it to trying to get any semblance of rest while strung up by chains.

The drug was making him really horny though. Thankfully, it also made him hotter, so he was less bothered by the low temperature of the prison. And, since he was always clean, he had taken to fingering himself for the better part of the day.

He didn't have anything else to do. Nobody to talk to. No window to look outside.

He was bored out of his mind, so he passed the time by masturbating.

His ass was loose enough to not require much more than spit for lube. It wasn't anything new to him. Sure, he was looser than he had been before, but even back in the BSAA, he could take raw dick without any help.

He was a good bottom, a complete sizequeen, a guy who maintained his physique solely to please potential partners.

No wonder Wesker had enjoyed his body.

On the fourth supposed morning, Piers woke up, stretched himself, cramped as he was from sleeping on the floor, and awaited the usual Majini who was responsible for his injection and thorough douching.

He hated getting up before he arrived. He was always cold-turkey, craving that sweet drug to enter his system. He really wished they would also give him a shot before bedtime, but then he might not get any shuteye at all if he was too busy jerking off.

Finally, the servant arrived. This time, however, Piers was chained up with his arms above his head like so many days before.

He struggled a bit at first, but when he saw Wesker, briefcase in hand, entering his cell, his heart bounced with both fear and excitement.

Finally.

He did his best to hide his feelings though. He knew Wesker's return meant further pain and humiliation awaited him.

It began right away as the older man remained in his cell as he was given his enema. Piers hated how his captor seemingly took pleasure in watching him shitting himself. At least the Majini didn't have a mind to care and he had grown accustomed to its presence over time.

Wesker however, looked on with a smirk and an obvious erection in his pants. He even snickered at his misery every now and then, which made Piers blush even deeper.

He deeply regretted the fact that he had missed this sadistic monster somehow. He felt nothing but hatred for him. He wanted to punch his goddamn smug and flawless face until he was unrecognizable.

The clean-up felt interminable with the added humiliation. When it was finally over, and the Majini had left, Piers felt deeply sick and utterly defeated. He had no tears left to cry. He just hung limp from his chains, awaiting whatever torture would befall him today.

"Since Chris doesn't seem to want you back, I've decided to put your body to good use." Wesker smiled, producing three syringes from the briefcase.

Nothing too worrisome to Piers' eyes. He didn't even flinch at the sight. He was used to needles now. They always shot his veins full of drugs in order to keep him aroused and compliant. He still couldn't figure out what they were giving him and had long stopped caring.

These didn't seem much different, he didn't understand why his captor even cared to show them to him.

"You have a lot of potential and, with a select few modifications, you could make me truly happy as a living sex toy." Wesker crooned, his voice dripping with devilish malice, "I've been working on this for a while, but I've only tested it on the Tyrant so far. Now, who knows, it might actually kill you. But, at this point, I assume you don't care much about the risk."

Piers remained boneless, not even made nervous by the sudden revelation.

Wesker was right, he didn't care.

In fact, dying would be a blessing. The only key to his freedom. He couldn't take matters into his own hands so his only hope was that whatever this new injection contained was lethal.

After all, even if Chris were to miraculously show up, there was no coming back for him. He wouldn't even be able to look at himself in the mirror knowing what he had been forced to do.

Wesker took the lack of answer as consent, not that he cared whether or not his prisoner approved to be a guinea pig, "Excellent. I really do hope you survive, though."

He removed the cap from one of the syringes and stared at the thin needle.

With a wicked smile, he continued, "You see, ever since my, shall we say, 'change', I've found myself a bit pent-up on a regular basis. Unbearably so, sometimes. You yourself can now relate to this state. How difficult it is to live with it. Of course, I've got a loving husband who does all he can to keep me satisfied. However, he needs to sleep. I don't. So I require someone else to entertain me while my dear beloved gets some rest. It's only fair."

Wesker walked behind his prisoner, eyeing his puffy, bruised anus. So lovely. He could just kneel down and worship it.

Instead, he carried on explaining his plan, "You have been quite a fun plaything for the past couple weeks. You're hot, you're tough, you've got a nice ass. However, I've always craved to have a toy with a completely wrecked hole. A twat so ridiculously loose he'd barely feel me in there unless I also added both my fists too. A dripping mancunt as deep as it is stretched out. A slack gash between two toned buttcheeks."

That was a bizarre fantasy, Piers thought. Who the hell would want a loose hole not even able to grip their dick even a little? He knew Wesker was into fisting, but this was just ridiculous.

The images it conjured into his mind were far from attractive as well.

Still, he didn't say a word. He had lost his will to fight. Hopefully this would kill him. If not, well, then he'd have to live with a saggy cunt. At least that way it might hurt less while he was getting raped.

The needle met his sensitive anus and instantly he felt the burn of the injection. Mere seconds later, it was over.

Then another syringe stung a different spot.

Then another.

His hole throbbed. He felt it all the way into his guts. The sensation made him want to just reach in there and scratch it, but his hands were bound, unfortunately.

He squirmed and panted, on the verge of tears.

"H-help me… master..." he whined, yearning for the missing touch that would send him over the edge.

"Patience. I have something very special for you today. I'm sure you'll love it." Wesker spoke as he untied his captive.

He held Piers' arms firmly so he wouldn't be able to touch himself.

"Walk." he then ordered as he urged the lad forward, all the while keeping a strong grip on him.

Piers didn't like being outside of his cell stark naked. However, today he had a hard time focusing on his shame as the mere act of walking made him shiver with pleasure.

His ass lips were so swollen between his cheeks, rubbing against them. He stopped dead in his tracks as he orgasmed from the sensation. The tremors of his body made his hole squirt a bit of slime out, trickling down his legs. If he hadn't had the certainty that he was impeccably douched back there, he would have been extremely worried.

He just assumed he still had a bit of water up there.

He had yet to realize that the injections were beginning to change him irreversibly.

After a few more dry orgasms, they arrived to a new room which seemed to be a sex dungeon. Of course Wesker would have one next to the prison. He probably had several, in fact.

Piers looked upon the machine at its center. It sported a large, black and beaded toy and seemed ready for use. It even had a big gallon of lube set to drip over the dildo to keep the ride all slippery and nice.

He grew a bit anxious, knowing that he had quite a rough pounding ahead of him.

He couldn't deny that he actually kind of wanted it as well. His hole felt so unnaturally good after being inoculated. He wanted to play with it.

With a shove, he was ordered to lay flat on his stomach on what looked like a black leather stretcher in front of the machine. Piers obeyed without protest, struggling not to orgasm every time he moved.

Panting and drenched in sweat, he finally managed to position himself where his master wanted him, eagerly awaiting his daily dose of punishment.

The slick tip of the toy was prodded against his entrance, his mancunt like lips kissing it. He was commanded to back up a bit and, as he did, he gasped as the flared glans popped past his swollen rim.

God, that thing was going to absolutely wreck him.

It was so thick in the middle, not to mention all those beads over its immense length.

"Don't move." Wesker ordered as he picked up the nearby belts and chains and fastened his captive to the machine.

That way, the poor lad would not be able to move away nor even make it so that the dildo would slip out of him. He'd be stuck there with no other choice but to take it.

Wesker smiled, retrieving the remote from his pocket, and putting it on the lowest setting.

He watched as the entire toy slowly disappeared within the boy's ass all the way down to the base.

All fifteen inches of it were now embedded firmly within his guts.

Piers lost his breath as he felt the huge intrusion bend inside of him, passing his second hole, opening him up like never before. Reaching new depths, unexplored so far.

Wesker stopped the movement, leaving the toy balls-deep into that trembling ass.

"I hope you're ready to get your hole reshaped. I want to see progress on that sloppy twat when I come back."

He made sure that his prisoner couldn't free himself somehow before starting the machine again. Watching the depth of those slow, steady thrusts confirmed that the toy wouldn't come out even if Piers were to squirm.

Because squirm he would. Sooner or later.

When satisfied with how things were set up, Wesker turned the machine on the fastest setting. The deepest, most powerful shoves it could deliver. He knew how rough that was as he had experienced it firsthand.

Instantly, it caused his victim to scream and he smiled to hear it.

"I'll be back in a couple hours. Don't disappoint me now."

Piers wailed in despair, his complaints intercut by the air being constantly knocked out of his lungs by the incessant shoves within his guts.

Already, his poor hole was aflame, his rectum quaking in pain. Surely that machine would kill him. He pissed himself as he came. The orgasm horrendous and insufferable.

It was long. So long.

It lasted on and on.

Until, through the blur of torturous pleasure, Piers realized that his body simply wouldn't come down from this state. He remained at the height of climax, strung like a wire, guts tightly coiled around the toy.

It was unbearable and, alas, this was just the beginning.

Whatever Wesker had given him this time was too much. Despite his state, the textured dildo glided inside of him like butter, dragging his prolapse out, then shoving it back in. Hundreds of penetrations per minute. The robotic rhythm unfaltering.

It was far worse than when Wesker fucked him. The machine did not care to stop and gawk at the mess it was turning him into. It did not care to shift angle or position for its own satisfaction.

It just wrecked him completely.

Merely thirty minutes into it, Piers passed out, his brain fried from the prolonged orgasm.

○◦○◦○◦○◦○◦○◦○◦○◦○◦○◦○◦○◦○

A harsh slap awoke him again and, instantly, he came, despite not even realizing where he was nor what was happening.

The machine was still fucking him as brutally as before, but his ass felt completely numb all the way up to his navel.

"Couldn't handle it, huh?" Wesker hissed, slapping Piers again as he saw just how confused he was.

He didn't care much that the boy had fainted. He still got fucked to hell and back and his mancunt was properly bruised and swollen now.

He had left him there for longer than intended. It had nearly been four hours now. The lube drip was almost empty and Wesker silently complimented himself for having put the largest container up before leaving.

He saw how Piers was having a non-stop orgasm and it amused him. Perhaps he had been a bit heavy-handed with the dosage today. However, the results sure were entertaining to watch. Perhaps he should always drug him out of his mind like so. After all, he had never cared much about not permanently messing the poor boy up.

Finally, he stopped the machine and pulled the toy out. Its exit was followed by a squelching, waterfall-like fart of slime splashing upon the floor.

Fuck that's hot, Wesker thought, feeling his hard-on bounce into his pants.

He unchained Piers and laid him supine across the stretcher, his legs spread away from the slippery puddle.

He wasted no time freeing his erection and burying it between those swollen asslips, purple and burning up, all wet and sloppy. It was so loose inside, he barely felt anything other than the soft, gliding warmth, sticky and mushy.

He adored this sensation.

But it did very little to stimulate him. Therefore, he shoved his entire hand in there effortlessly and began fucking his palm inside of that blown-out ass.

Now that felt great.

Half-conscious, Piers softly purred, glad to be freed from this infernal machine.

Even though he was currently fucking him like a rutting animal, Wesker's brutality seemed so gentle compared to what he had just endured.

Perhaps he was just too numb to truly feel it.

It didn't matter.

"Now that's what I call a proper twat." Wesker praised, thoroughly enjoying himself, "A sloppy hole like that just begs to be played with."

There were so many things he wanted to do with it. He could go so far with Piers, having altered him into a perfect toy.

He had no love for him, no care for his needs. It was completely different from having sex with his husband. Even with a stranger.

He was free to do anything he wanted. His most wanton fantasies could become reality. The amount of abuse he could dish out on the poor boy was unparalleled and he could explore any wicked idea that might cross his mind.

An ass like that, completely trashed, was the rarest of treats. It was even more messed up than his own, which was no small feat.

Now the boy's only limit was his mortality.

Such a shame. Wesker would have loved tearing him apart only to put him back together. Cutting holes into his body only to fuck them. Taking pleasure in a gouged orbit, a slit throat, a punctured stomach.

Too bad.

Regardless, he could still have plenty of fun without killing his new toy.

Denying his impending peak, Wesker instead went and fetched a bunch of rather large, spiked balls from his pile of toys. He inserted all six of them inside of Piers' ass, which accepted all of it effortlessly.

One of them did pop back out in a loud squelch, but Wesker caught it and pushed it inside again.

He then began to fuck that gargantuan cunt once more with both dick and fists, ramming the toys as deep as he could. His captive's stomach was raised from the insertion, making him look in the early stages of pregnancy.

Maybe I should try and modifying him to bear children too, Wesker pondered as he caressed the bulging abs. He would love for his soldiers to use that sloppy gash to breed more Majini for his personal army. Perhaps he could even make it so that the Tyrant would be able to produce an heir.

Such a prize the lad would become if he were able to shit a legion of monsters out.

All those ideas turned Wesker on beyond belief.

Piers squirmed a bit, moaning as he was slowly becoming lucid again. He still felt like he was having a single, maintained orgasm, but he was now aware that he was full of foreign objects while being mercilessly fucked.

He hated how, even with Wesker's huge rod and thick hands hammering his hole, he still felt extremely loose.

He couldn't believe how much space there was inside of him now. It was like his hole was made of putty, able to stretch beyond what any human should be able to bear. 

The pain of it felt amazing, constantly mixing with the most intense pleasure of his life.

Sex had never been this good before. He wouldn't be able to go back to just regular fucking if he were to ever get out of here.

All the more reason for him to choose death.

As soon as Wesker retreated, the balls followed suit, popping out one by one at high speed.

One of them rolled underneath the stretcher, entering Piers' field of vision. He now realized those were the size of baseballs. They hadn't felt that large inside of him and he shuddered to imagine just how he looked back there.

He thanked his lucky star that he didn't feel much currently.

Softly, he mewled as Wesker got back inside, punching his engorged prostate. The feeling soon followed by a flood of hot come accompanied by satisfied grunts and a raucous, "Good slut."

Despite his current state, Piers deplored the end of their session.

No matter the pain, the tiredness, the numbness, he didn't want it to stop.

Should he beg for more?

Could he even handle more?

The feeling of emptiness was far more dreadful than any pain he had endured so far.

He would go insane if he couldn't scratch that itch. He prayed he wouldn't be tied in his cell today. He needed to fist himself silly until he passed out again. That was the only way he'd manage to get some sleep.

Not that sleep ever got him much peace either as it was constantly plagued by bizarre wet dreams. Or wet nightmares rather.

"Master… please… I need… more."

The words had left his mouth without thinking. Part of him regretted them, but part of him felt such a relief to ask.

Wesker chuckled, taken aback by the demand. He had not expected this kind of reaction. The lad was a complete mess, not even able to move anymore, and he actually wanted to continue?

That was amazing.

Unfortunately, he couldn't oblige.

"I'm afraid I'm needed elsewhere soon. I'm a busy man, I'm sure even a dumb whore like you can understand that."

"Please… at least… your men..." Piers panted, hating himself for begging, "Give me… to them."

"I don't have anyone to supervise them. I might come back to you torn to shreds. What a waste that would be." Wesker began to think for a moment before smiling, "However, I can leave you in here with the machine and toys. Have all the fun you want. I'll come get you later."

Piers nodded. At this point, he would take anything.

Wesker handed him remote before going to set up some more lube for his playtime.

He then bid him goodbye before locking the door behind as he left.

Piers gathered his strength and stood up on weak, shaking legs, wobbling around.

He looked at the neatly ordered toys, all glistening, black, and gigantic. There were some even larger than what he had been previously wrecked with.

One of them caught his attention, the design causing his heart to leap in his chest and his hole to quiver with need. It was so long, so thick, such a size would put horses to shame. It was covered in spikes too, nothing like the soft beads he had experienced before.

A real cunt-wrecker for sure.

He also found a bunch of bullet vibrators, all impressively strong. He wanted to have fun with those as well.

He removed the previous toy from the machine and set up the new one in its place.

He positioned himself back on the stretcher, laying flat on his stomach just like when he had been chained previously.

He knew it would go deep, he knew it would be rough.

He wanted it.

He turned all the vibrators on and shoved the five of them inside his hungry hole. The buzzing reached all the way to his chest.

It was simply perfect.

He then popped the huge, flared head of the dildo past his slack sphincter, then grabbed the remote and gave himself a good pounding. All the vibrators were instantly shoved straight into his sigmoid, making him come.

It felt so amazing, he saw stars dancing before his eyes.

He thought he would enjoy controlling the speed, but he soon found himself craving the highest setting, nothing less.

He just laid there, moaning, brainless and orgasming.

He'd take it until he passed out again.

He didn't care about anything else right now.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, Piers becomes a test subject in one of Wesker's new experiments.

For the past week, Piers had spent a couple hours hooked to the machine every day. He was escorted there first thing in the morning after his dosage and ablutions. They had upped his intake of drugs, keeping him completely mindless.

Then, after proper training of his hole, he was brought back to his cell to rest. They had moved him to a new one, less cold and dark. He even had a bed now. No longer being forced to sleep on the floor or, even worse, dangling from chains, was such a blessing.

He was still tied up every now and then, but he was never left like this for more than a few hours at a time now. They no longer needed to keep him bound. He didn't fight anymore. Didn't spit nor hiss. Didn't try to bite. Didn't hurl insults at his captor.

In fact, he was crawling on all fours, begging for more. The pheromones had taken full effect on him. He was constantly riding an intense sexual high. He could come from fingertips merely brushing against his skin. His entire body was an erogenous zone now.

His mind was completely broken.

Piers had gotten so used to dry orgasms now that he often forgot his penis even existed. Its only purpose was to torture. His beloved master enjoyed hitting him in the balls and he himself adored this feeling of pain going all the way up into his stomach. So intense it borderline made him sick. The harsher the pain, the happier he was.

Since his dick was useless for pleasure now, Wesker had it permanently locked in a metal chastity cage. It was a particularly cruel model, constricting it tightly. It also came with a large sounds going deep inside his bladder, allowing him to urinate without dirtying the rest.

Since it kept his canal wide open, it also came with a screw-up plug at the tip. And said plug also had an optional lock, that way his master could keep him with a full bladder for hours on end, desperate for relief.

Wesker found it so much fun to watch him wriggling around helplessly, begging to be allowed to piss.

Since the changes, he visited daily, often more than once, to play some perverted games, always full of devious imagination.

A few hours ago, he had left Piers sitting on an immense buttplug. His belly round and full of hot, thick come trapped inside.

He didn't even protest. He stayed there like a good boy, orgasming every once in a while from the stretch alone. Eagerly awaiting his master's return.

He wanted more. He couldn't get enough. Even when he was beaten up, he couldn't stop coming. He was always covered in bruises and scrapes. He was always hurting. Yet it only accentuated his pleasure.

The previous night, Wesker had let him out of his cage and stomped on his dick over and over until it was blue and throbbing. And poor lad had peaked every time the hard sole had met his erection.

He even had begged for the castigation to continue once his torturer had walked out after locking his punished prick again.

He no longer thought about his freedom. He no longer thought about Chris. All he cared about was coming over and over again. Even when it was painful to do so, he didn't want to stop. He was so far gone.

"Oh, master, please fuck me... please... I need you..." Piers panted with his tongue out, drooling, as he saw the tall blond man entering his cell. He was so excited, he almost came right there and then. His desperate, bruised manhood bobbing in its cage.

"Always so eager." Wesker smirked as he approached. He didn't even need to lock the door behind him. His prisoner was now a willing resident of the facility.

"Yes, master. I want to suck your dick. I beg you. Please come in my mouth. Piss in my mouth. I want it. Please... please fuck my stupid face."

The young soldier could hardly articulate as his intoxicated brain struggled between the desire to speak and the desire to keep his jaw wide open so it could be stuffed as soon as possible.

Wesker unzipped his pants, freeing his flaccid length. He liked just how addicted to urine the boy had become. He always made sure to arrive with a full bladder for him to quench his thirst upon.

"So my stupid little slut wants some piss right now?"

"Ah, yes master, please..." Piers moaned, panting like a dog and eagerly awaiting his hot drink, straight from the tap.

He mewled lewdly when the stream hit his open mouth. Rank, salty, and bitter. He drank it all like he was parched. He got so excited at some point that he just took the entire dick into his mouth and let it pour down his throat. He moaned in delight, feeling warmth going all the way down into his already full stomach. Nothing made him happier than being bloated with both piss and come.

He kept hungrily sucking until his captor was hard. Deepthroating his whole length effortlessly. He could now come from getting facefucked. Orgasms so intense they were unbelievable. He swallowed semen as greedily as urine.

"Th-thank you so much, master. It was delicious." he gasped after drinking his fill of both.

His only reward was a harsh slap which sent him over the edge once again. He nearly collapsed onto the floor from the impact.

"You're very welcome."

While his captive righted himself, Wesker fetched something from his pocket.

"You'll be a good little slut for me today, won't you?" he crooned as he presented two thin syringes to the shaking boy. He was tremendously eager to test out this new formula.

"Oh yes, master. I live to serve you. I love you so much, master."

Piers expected his monstrous hole to receive more injections. He would gladly take them, he wanted his gaping cunt to sag even more. He loved how heavy it felt between his legs.

With an elegant move of his hand, Wesker ordered his captive to stand up.

He obeyed, the task difficult due to his swollen belly. All of its content shifting inside almost caused him to climax again.

He stood before his master, his entire body screaming for a touch. How eager he was. He could hardly contain himself. Barely had the older man approached that he quivered with anticipation.

"Patience, patience." Wesker snickered to see him so restless as he removed the caps from the two syringes, "I have a special present for you tonight."

He hoped this would work as intended.

With a swift strike, he planted the needle into one of the boy's hard nipples and injected it with the solution.

Piers gasped and peaked instantly from the flare of pain. Before his orgasm had subsided, his other areola had been inoculated too.

Wesker discarded the used syringes and awaited to see some results. Two little droplets of blood were now making their way towards a bulging stomach, accompanied by plenty of sweat.

It was like a race.

He stared at the thin red trails, almost equal for the entire descent until the right one picked up some speed at the end and won past the belly button finish line.

"What have you done to me, master?" Piers whined, still a bit absent due to his recent climax.

He began scratching at his chest. It was tickling like crazy. The more he rubbed, the more it burned, the more it turned him on.

Playing with his nipples now felt even more satisfying than stroking his own cock. They were so sensitive.

He scraped and teased and tugged. The itch just wouldn't go away. He came from it. However, his member was not the only part of him that leaked droplets of white as he did.

He felt the liquid against his fingers. Warm, pale, with a very slight viscosity.

Milk.

"M-master?"

Wesker clapped in satisfaction, "There you go. I knew it would work."

He had trusted in his ability as a scientist and it had paid off. But coming up with the proper formula to cause a man to instantly lactate had been quite an undertaking. Especially for the sole purpose of satisfying a vague fantasy of his.

The only thing he ignored was the reversibility of the deed. He knew the hormone cocktail that kept his captive high on sex would probably wear off without any adverse effects. It was a compound he had purposely created to put mere humans into that same state of lustful insanity infected creatures caused him to slip into with their proximity.

But the awakening of the boy's mammary glands might be permanent. Just like his poor, messed up anus. Not that it mattered. He'd gladly keep him like this forever. After all, if he were to work on finding a way to allow his slave to become pregnant, having his lovely pectorals overflowing with milk was a nice start. He was told not to do any irreversible damage. Technically, such a modification was not damaging him in any way.

And did it truly matter anymore? It had been over a month now and no signs of Chris, not even a message. The BSAA had left their marksman for dead. No one would come to rescue him.

Piers just kept milking himself stupid and coming from it. There was quite a mess on the floor now.

And Wesker was about to make it even bigger.

He pats his prisoner's round belly, gentle and caring. Glad to see just how much he enjoyed his new ability.

"Since you look pregnant right now, I thought it would be fun if you lactated too."

He squeezed one of his mantits and more liquid squirted out of his inflamed nipple. He licked his fingers. It was both sweet and salty. Delicious.

Without warning, he punched the boy hard in the stomach. So hard the large toy in his ass was ejected from the pressure and a torrent of putrid come gushed out in an impressive cascade.

Piers keeled over, sinking down to the ground from pain and pleasure. His ribs then received a strong kick which caused another orgasm to shake his beaten body. His ass emptied itself in gouts while tremors staggered his entire being.

The abuse carried on for a little while. Punches, kicks, slaps, stomps, spits. The young soldier took everything and even thanked his torturer for it. Bleeding lips smiling when they were not parted in a moan of ecstasy.

Wesker would have preferred for Chris to have been in his place instead. He was the one who truly deserved to pay for what he had done, not this innocent boy. However, he was fully aware that it would hurt his former partner far more if he ruined someone he deeply cared for instead. It had worked wonderfully when he had torn dear Jill apart three years ago. It would work even better with his favourite recruit. The one he saw as the next captain of the BSAA.

He smiled. The only thing poor Piers would be in charge of now was pleasing as many hard cocks as he could. A fitting destiny for such a promising young man with a bright future in front of him. He'd be nothing more than a comedump until the abuse freed him from this sexual hell.

Once he grew bored with beating his captive up, Wesker commanded him to stand, and was pleased to witness instant compliance despite his current state.

"Tell me, slut : where do you want this big dick?" he inquired while stroking his own erection. Slow and sensual. Making sure the display was enticing as can be. Loose foreskin gliding over raised veins, covering and uncovering the bulging, wet glans.

"In my ass, master. Please, break me. Destroy me. I want it so bad." Piers begged as he turned around and bent over. It took him a lot of efforts to stop playing with his dripping nipples to part his buttcheeks as an invitation to ruin his gaping hole further.

A mean snicker rocked Wesker's shoulders.

"Come and get it then." he motioned the boy closer with his index finger.

Piers wasted no time taking the few steps of distance that separated them and impaled himself upon his inviting shaft. He no longer needed lube nor preparation. He was always wide open and leaking.

As soon as he had taken the whole thing down to the base, his captor began moving, and he came instantly. This one orgasm never truly died down due to the pounding being so intense.

It was so rough, it hurt more than the earlier beating. He peaked and peaked.

It never stopped.

Wesker fucked his captive's ass relentlessly while also squeezing and rubbing the milk out of his chest. He carefully made use of his inhuman strength, just a little, to give him a pace unmatched in speed by any mortal.

At this point, Piers didn't even know what caused him to orgasm. The dick plowing his engorged prostate faster than his brain could register or the fingers urging him to lactate.

He loved it. This wasn't even enough for him. He wanted to be completely violated and defiled in unspeakable ways. His hole burned and throbbed from the friction, yet he craved a harder fuck.

"More, master. Please more. I love your dick, master. I love you. Hurt me, please."

Had he been in his right mind, he would have been mortified. But, right now, all he could do was abandon himself to this unnatural pleasure. He was addicted.

He now found Wesker so insanely attractive too. He used to not be his type at all.

"Your twat is so wet today. You must really love getting raped like a whore."

"Mmh... aaah... yes master. Please rape my ass inside-out."

The assault lasted for hours. Piers prayed it would never end. His hole was beaten by dick and fists in alternation. A punch, a plow. More punches, more plows.

At some point, his captor had both a hand and his member inside, jerking himself off deep within his overstretched rectum. Each glide of knuckles against his prostate made him quiver in orgasmic throes.

No one did him better. This was beyond words. He was sinking into an endless sea of pleasure. Drowning had never felt this good. He had even forgotten who he was. His only remaining identity was being his beloved master's stupid slut. His worthless jizz rag. A set of ruined holes existing for the sole purpose of draining superior males.

He didn't care about anything else.

All he wanted was come.

All day, everyday.

"You fuck me so good, master. I just... aaaah!" Piers yelped, interrupted mid-sentence by a sharp slap to his balls.

"I fuck good, slut?"

Another slap.

"Aaah! You fuck amazing, master. You're the best."

Yet another slap. His balls were bright red now.

He attained his zenith again. So hard he saw stars. His abused testicles, long empty, providing him with so much pleasure in such a sorry state. He still had plenty of precome to give though. His prostate ravaged so brutally by the shaft plowing his ass raw.

"More. Master, please hit me more."

Wesker slid his belt from around his waist and began to strike his captive's glistening back with it.

Every hit leaving a deep red welt, nearly breaking the skin.

And every hit also caused Piers to climax and beg for more.

Despite the harsh beating, the boy still continued to play with his nipples. They only had a few weak droplets left to give and were horribly sore, but he just couldn't stop teasing them.

He was whipped until he bled. It still wasn't enough. His broken brain no longer discerned torture from pleasure.

The older man knew he could probably cut his limbs off and he'd enjoy it.

As tempting as this was, he was determined to keep him in one piece.

The smell of blood so sweet in the stale air of the prison. It made Wesker's mouth water. So did the display before his eyes.

He leaned over to lick the lashed back. He had not left any cuts that would heal into a visible scar. All the wounds he inflicted were superfluous, but that did not make them any less biting.

Tossing his belt aside, he reached for Piers' smartphone in his back pocket. It had been a few days since he had sent dear Chris a message. Over the course of a month, he had sent about a dozen pictures. Now was time to drive his point home.

He was beginning to wonder if his cruel teasing of the boy had not been accurate. Perhaps his captain would not come for him after all. Time passed, but nothing changed. This base wasn't exactly difficult to find. Especially since the lovely device in his hand could be tracked via GPS.

He filmed as he plowed the young soldier, making sure to showcase just how ruined his ass was around his shaft. Also getting a lengthy shot of his bleeding back.

"Who's my stupid little slut?" he cooed, ruffling his prisoner's hair with his free hand.

"Aaah, I am, master. I'm your stupid little slut. Give me your come, please. I want more... more come... aah-aaaah!"

"Smile for the camera. Show dear Chris just how happy you are."

Piers did as ordered, a dumb, happy smile upon his busted lips as his eyes rolled underneath his lids.

"Say hi to your captain."

"Hi captain. I'm getting fucked in the ass like a dumb whore and it feels so good."

Wesker laughed. Amazing. Just amazing. He was completely messed up in the head. High on pheromones. Hooked on sex.

"Do you want me to show your captain how good I ruined you?"

"Oh yes, show him. Show him, please. My ass. It's so wrecked. Your big dick destroyed it."

Wesker pointed the camera at the boy's rear as he pulled out.

Without missing a beat, Piers used both his hands to stretch his modified hole as wide as he could, putting his immense gape on display. He then pushed and prolapsed obscenely around his gripping fingers.

Wesker smiled, toying with the rectum, jerking it off.

"I've got to commend you, Chris. You've really trained him tough."

He pushed his dick back inside. The rosebud did not even fold. It just remained out, limp and prime for abuse.

He pointed the lens at his own face, a smug grin upon his lips. Since he had stopped moving, Piers was now desperately slamming his prolapse against his pelvis, panting and moaning obscenities.

"He loves me so much. I'm afraid, if you don't come and get him soon, he just won't want to leave. Hurry up, Chris."

He winked before he stopped the recording and mailed it to the concerned party.

He let his captive fuck himself upon his shaft. Just watching, amused. He allowed his own pleasure to build up. It was quite easy while having such a beautiful display before his eyes. In just a few minutes, he growled in ecstasy and filled the boy's hole with his inhuman ejaculation.

Almost all of it gushed out due to how ruined his ass was.

Many more orgasms tore through the young soldier's body, especially when he felt his captor filling him up. That was always his favourite moment. Nobody gave him this much sperm. It felt like an explosion of liquid. So hot it burned inside.

He was certain there was something special in it that made him even more fucked up in the head somehow. It seeped through his inner walls, making his nerves crazy. They would remain so for hours afterwards. It made him even more insanely sensitive than he already was, yet also gave him the energy he needed to carry on.

Catching his breath, Wesker laughed. Such a good slave he owned.

"Does this stupid little slut want to go and show my valiant soldiers how good his naughty tits are lactating today?"

Piers trembled with excitement, knowing he would soon have so many dicks at his disposal he wouldn't even know what to do with all of them. Oh, to feel hard, dripping glans rubbing against his overstimulated nipples. That would be heaven.

"Ah, yes master. It would make this stupid slut so happy. Thank you so much, master."


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, Piers is further altered by his captor.  
> Warning : needles, double fisting, prolapse, overstimulation

Days had passed. Perhaps even weeks.  
  
Piers couldn't tell.  
  
His nipples had been injected a few more times to get him to milk like crazy. His anus also had been inoculated to truly cement its transformation into a wrecked crater of a twat to match his master's fantasies. It was truly monstrous now. Anyone could see it sagging between his asscheeks, dripping wet with natural juices. Whatever it was they had injected him with, it made his guts produce so much slime, he no longer needed any lube, no matter how large what he was attempting to conquer was.

And oh did it feel good. Mere caresses to its swollen lips were enough to have him come over and over again. He could masturbate simply by rubbing his palm over it. But true pleasure claimed him when he stretched the muscle, when he shoved something inside.

The bigger, the better.

Wesker had left him numerous toys, stuck to the walls with suction cups, for him to fuck himself upon when the need arose.

And it arose all the time.

If Piers was awake, he was fucking himself.

He didn't care about anything else.

He had collected three large, textured dildos close together and triple-penetrated his eager guts with them for hours on end. He took them all down to the base, easily engulfing twenty long inches of silicon past his rectum and into his begging sigmoid.

Not only did he crave more girth, he also desired more length as well. He wanted to be penetrated all the way inside of his stomach. He wanted it to come out of his mouth. He wanted to be impaled on a humongous phallus, no matter how unrealistic that would be.

Even that might not be enough for him.

Later on, when Wesker dropped by for his daily visit, Piers was already wrecked, still fucking himself stupid, milking his tits eagerly. His whole body trembling in both pleasure and exhaustion. His caged cock leaking like a faucet.

No matter how tired he got, he just couldn't stop. Therefore, he was overjoyed whenever he got to see his master. This meant he would no longer have to work this hard chasing orgasm after orgasm.

"Ah-aanh… master. I'm so glad to see you." he purred, eyes crossed, not even caring to stop what he was doing to greet his visitor. He knew Wesker appreciated the show, so he kept at it. Diligently destroying his ass and making his nipples squirt in order to satisfy the only man that mattered in his life.

With a smile, Wesker looked on, not without a certain awe. Truly it had been a good decision to further mess the poor lad up. Upping his intake of pheromones and targeting specific parts of his body for genetic modifications, this little soldier had been an amazing test subject. Proving that, if Wesker wished it so, he could create depraved slaves with just a few tweaks.

He planned on making many more improvements to his toy in the coming months. He fully intended on giving him a working reproductive system to match his Tyrant. He wanted to make his urethra so large he could fuck it all the way into his bladder.

And, if he could somehow find a way to give him advanced regeneration, he would happily cut him up too. The recent injections to his guts had made them quite resistant to damage, healing in no time at all after being thoroughly roughed up. He just had to come up with the right viral cocktail to match the boy's DNA. It couldn't be that difficult.

All those delicious future prospects filled Wesker with sadistic glee.

"Come closer now, dumb slut. I want to play with you." he said, beckoning his captive with his hand.

Without fear nor hesitation, Piers left the three toys that skewered him and walked over, tipsy as if he were drunk. His rectum heavily flopped between his thighs, unable to remain inside due to the insane amount of abuse it had been put through lately.

He felt hollow in the pit of his stomach, leaving no doubt as to how much of his guts were outside of his body in this moment.

He got down on his knees for his daily intake of piss. That's how playtime always began now. He took his master's flaccid dick all the way into his mouth, balls and all, and let the hot nectar flow down his gullet, filling him with its comforting warmth. The sensation alone gave him a long and delicious dry orgasm. The smell of it in his nose turned him on beyond belief.

All those pheromone drugs had rewired his brain and made him extremely receptive to Wesker's viral musk. His bodily fluids were like a potent aphrodisiac and he was addicted completely.

When Piers had drank his fill, he thanked his master as he got back up to his feet and turned around, presenting his sagging insides, bright red and swollen, dripping wet and prime for abuse.

"Now that's absolutely gorgeous." Wesker purred in delight as he grabbed a hold of that gigantic prolapse, caressing it with both hands. Huge, meaty, and juicy, it filled his grip with its size.

He caressed it amorously, trailing the veins by fingertips. It was by far the biggest he had ever seen on a human. To think he was the genius architect behind such a marvel. He felt great pride in his accomplishment.

Squeezing it, he began jerking it off as if it were a dick. It squirted in his hands, becoming wetter from the stimulation like a proper inside-out cunt.

That had to be the hottest thing Wesker had seen in his entire life. Every single day it became bigger and better. He knew he would never tire of playing with this toy.

"You're making my prolapse come, aaah!" Piers wailed in ecstatic despair as his entire body quaked under a nerve-wracking orgasm brought on by the vigorous stroking of his distended rectum.

It was so mind-blowingly powerful he couldn't help pissing himself from it. His toes curled, his eyes crossed, his tongue lolled.

It felt amazing.

His body had completely transformed and was now nothing more than a tool of pleasure. He was a hole to be used. No longer human. No longer anything his master did not desire him to be. He didn't aspire to higher purpose anymore.

He didn't even think about leaving here. That was his home now. There was nowhere else in the world he'd rather be.

All he wanted was to serve, now and forever.

He came yet again when his prolapse was suddenly and brutally punched back inside of him. 

There was no mercy. No respite. His hole was bruised black, forever altered.

"Fuck yourself on my fists, slut." Wesker ordered, holding both his arms together, flexed and huge.

Piers pressed his sloppy mancunt against the balled fists, the lips of his ass parted, ready to be beaten to a pulp.

He didn't need to be told twice. Eagerly, he sank down the offered arms, all the way to the elbows, until his stomach was taut and raised. The feeling of painful fullness, on the brink of breaking, sent him over the edge instantly.

But even his orgasmic throes did not make his will to completely destroy himself on those fists falter one bit. Though trembling, he kept his cadence, moving up and down, hard and fast, hellbent on bruising his insides, on having them completely smashed.

"I feel g...o...o...d… master."

Another orgasm swept him over like a tidal wave and he nearly passed out. His legs gave and he just sat there, impaled on those strong arms.

Effortlessly, Wesker lifted his prisoner off the ground, both arms still buried inside of his guts, and placed him on the nearby bed.

"Ready to get that twat smashed to pieces?"

Piers couldn't reply nor did he need to. His brain having ceased up from the intensity of pleasure only allowed him to moan now.

Thus, Wesker began to punch, harder than he ever allowed himself to punch anyone else. He knew those toughened up guts could handle quite a beating. He had made them so. He could even grab the membrane inside and dig the boy's prolapse back out if he wanted. There was no risk of tearing.

Not that he couldn't fix it if it occurred. After all, he was a doctor.

Piers brayed, crying in sexual agony, using what little strength he had left to match the frenetic rhythm destroying his ass.

Double fist, hard and relentless, punching him beyond pain and into rapturous heights of bliss. His beloved master was elbows deep inside of him, both arms, muscular and hairy. His toned stomach was raised into a grotesque mound as his organs moved aside to make room for the large intrusions.

It was in moments like these that Piers felt complete.

He belonged to Wesker. He was a toy for his satisfaction.

Nothing more.

He did not care for his love. Did not need to be verbally appreciated. He lived to be used on his master's terms. This was what made him truly, wholesomely happy. He no longer had to think. Thinking was too hard. He no longer had to worry about anything.

All he had to do was offer his holes to service Wesker, his god, and take whatever he would bless him with on that particular day.

Pain, pleasure, humiliation, denial.

It didn't matter to Piers.

All that mattered was that his master was pleased in the end.

Anything he wanted, he would oblige.

He no longer had a mind. He was free from it and happy to be. Perfectly brainwashed. Lobotomized through his ass.

He was a tool.

His gaze was vacant, his obedience total, without a thread of reluctance. Even if Wesker wanted to kill him, he wouldn't be afraid. He'd gladly stare down the barrel of a gun knowing his master would be happy to see his useless brain splattered all over the walls.

He barely had to be told what to do anymore. A simple point of the finger where Wesker wanted him and Piers was already there, on his knees, mouth open in eager anticipation to serve.

He had been so perfectly altered that he could now effortlessly come from being touched anywhere. Everything triggered arousal in him. Sucking dick made him come. Urinating made him come. Drinking piss made him come. Being beaten made him come.

His body constantly wanted sex, riding an endless high of pheromones and aphrodisiacs. All those special injections had turned his brain to mush, his throat into a cunt, and his ass into a sloppy crater that opened up at the slightest touch to swallow anything offered, no matter how large. The more it hurt, the more it felt good.

It brought such satisfaction to his heart to see his master happy. A serene sense of fulfilment. His purpose accomplished whenever Wesker left his cell with a smile upon his face.

Piers squirmed a bit as he felt both those large hands inside of him grab a hold of his guts and turn them inside-out.

He then felt the delicious, soft relief of his master's hot mouth swallowing his entire prolapse. It was so large it went all the way down his throat where the constrictions were heavenly, massaging it.

Since Wesker could go quite long without breathing, he was an absolute deepthroat champion. He could go on and on, making Piers come until he lost count.

He loved going down on the lad, even though he was nothing more than an object. Wesker simply couldn't pass on the most marvellous prolapse in the world. It tasted just as good as it looked. Raw, primal, and slightly tangy.

He had to admit, since his captive was pumped full of mutant pheromones, he himself was rather weak to them. As such, he found soldier here boy quite irresistible.

If Piers had a few more braincells left, he might even have been able to seduce his way out.

Too bad he no longer wanted to leave.

Too bad for him.

Wesker left the prolapse lazily worm out of his open mouth. He then freed his erection, completely dwarfed by that hanging cunt meat.

He found it amusing to behold.

For some reason, he really enjoyed whenever his big dick looked tiny when compared to a blown-out ass.

He also liked it whenever he met a creature more well-hung than he was.

It didn't make him feel inferior, it just gave him a rush, knowing he was about to have some fun.

He used his captive's limp rectum as a onahole, jerking himself off with it. All the while he used his free hand to squeeze the young man's puffy nipples, milking them. Now that the injections had taken full effect on his body, poor lad had basically turned into a human cow.

Piers helped squeezing the milk out of his chest. It felt amazing. He never stopped lactating. His pecs were always rock hard and sore, heavy with sustenance. It turned him on so much to be like this, with his tits constantly dripping. It made him feel so perverted and he always strived to be the biggest, nastiest slut for his beloved master.

Through the haze of unbridled lust, he felt Wesker coming, his hot seed making his prolapse swell like a balloon. He adored when the older man did that. His load was the most precious gift. It made his body burn in unnatural ecstasy. He knew whatever infected Wesker was somehow seeping into his system too. Not enough to turn him into a monster, but surely enough to turn him into a mindless, sex-starved bitch.

In fact, fried as his brain was, Piers wasn't so different from the zombies now. Even the Majini had more wits about them than he did. He was a dumb whore thinking only with his holes. Caring solely about getting them filled up.

When Wesker was done coming, growling in pleasure, he punched the sperm-filled prolapse back inside with both his fists, causing quite the spectacular splash.

The impact sent most of the liquid up Piers' stomach and he threw up as he climaxed hard from the sudden and intense hit.

He had a slight tremor, smiling happily, before passing out.

Wesker laughed to see him like this, sprawled unconscious upon the bed.

He unstuck his prisoner's three favourite toys from the wall and inserted them inside of him, propping his limp body in a position where they wouldn't slide out.

"I'll go wash up and I'll see you again soon. I feel like beating you bloody next."


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, Piers gets acquainted with another Tyrant.  
> Warning : teratophilia, knotting, size difference, non-human genitalia, come inflation, prolapse

Piers might have lost track of time, but Wesker hadn't. It was nearing on two months since they had captured Chris' little friend. Two months of intense sexual torture and physical abuse.

The lad looked like a complete mess now. He was bruised black and blue all over. He had grown emaciated, his eyes were sunken in from sleep deprivation.

Wesker's new goal now was to get him back into shape. He had allowed the situation to degenerate for long enough now.

He simply hadn't expected that he'd get to keep the boy.

At first, he had cared very little about his physical integrity. However, now that it was clear the young soldier was his property, things had to change.

He didn't like his slave to be thin. He wanted the buff, tanned twunk Piers back.

As such, he had him fixed with three copious meals a day and forced him to train if he wanted to be allowed to play. It was difficult keeping the lad on track as he was constantly horny. Wesker even had to drug him to sleep, otherwise he would just get an hour or two of rest at most before he could no longer resist the urge to fuck himself stupid with his toys.

It would be an uphill battle, but Wesker firmly intended on getting his property into peak conditions. Such a perfectly wrecked twat would be wasted on someone unattractive.

At least they were making daily progress. Slowly but surely.

He was a very patient man.

Since Piers had managed to get some decent sleep and put on a bit of weight lately, Wesker decided that he deserved a big reward. Since the lad's guts had grown huge and highly resistant, it was time to kick it up a notch.

"There's someone I want you to meet today." Wesker said, smiling, as he entered his prisoner's cell. The door wasn't even closed anymore.

Sometimes he even found a Majini or two having their way with him in there.

He didn't care. He wasn't the jealous type. A cunt like that deserved to be shared.

And today he would thoroughly enjoy watching it being shared with a very special friend of his. His other sex partner, also built and modified to satisfy his urges. Not the same urges that Piers was tasked with taking care of, obviously. Wesker was a man of numerous passions and it took quite a lot to slake his lust.

Without question, Piers left his toys and followed his master. He no longer cared about walking around naked. In fact, he liked it. He wanted everyone to look at his drooping, drooling twat. He felt quite sexy and confident, knowing that his master enjoyed parading him all over the complex.

They headed to a part Piers had never been to before. The security around the area was quite heavy, with cameras everywhere, and Wesker had to punch in numerous codes into armoured gates. Other doors required keys, then an elevator required a card, then another gate demanded yet another code.

After they had gone down several levels, there no longer were any armed guards to be found anywhere.

The air felt sanitized like in a hospital. If Piers had still been able to think even for a second, he would have realized that this was a branch of Wesker's secret lab. However, horny and stupid as he was, he just gawked around, eyes wide and mancunt twitching, eager to be fucked.

Their destination required three codes, a card, and a scan of Wesker's retina to enter.

When the gate hissed open, Piers instinctively followed, not even smart enough to feel fear nor even the slightest apprehension.

He entered the large room with a slight skip in his step.

Instantly, his gaze fell upon the creature in there.

"Good evening, handsome." Wesker greeted the monster cheerfully, "I've brought you a toy to play with."

The Tyrant stirred, approaching slowly, its footsteps making the floor shake.

Piers stared, mouth agape. He didn't even care to appreciate the horrendous deformities of the mutant. He couldn't take his eyes off its manhood flopping between its powerful legs.

It was humongous. A monster cock larger than his master's entire arm. It was veiny, spiky, wrinkly, thick as can be. The head was tapered, designed to flare and not easily come out once inside. Its meatus was slightly raised, a huge hole that could surely gush an insane quantity of sperm out.

Wesker grabbed the abominable virility with both hands and stroked it to hardness.

Awed, Piers drooled as he discovered the underside of it was covered in a ladder of raised edges. No doubt this phallus had been custom-made, a cross of several creatures in order to get the ultimate living sex toy. A perfect tool of anal destruction built for extreme bliss and the sweetest agony.

When it had fully swelled with blood, the base of it began to bloat next, growing disproportionately large into a spiked knot that was larger than two fists combined.

Piers had never seen anything more erotic in his life.

"Do you want to touch it?" asked Wesker as he began to massage the Tyrant's mammoth-sized balls.

Unable to even speak, still too shocked by the glorious sight, Piers approached and felt the monster's turgid erection up. It was boiling hot, had no give when squeezed, yet bent quite easily. Truly, it would be perfect to reach the deepest recesses of his hungry guts.

"You'll get to drain those today." Wesker mentioned, still stroking his pet monster's sack, "I've created him specifically for sex. He'll pump gallons of come into you. He'll fuck you for hours without tiring. Just abandon yourself in his arms. I want to see a good show today."

He then went and sat on a nearby bench, taking his erection out, ready to masturbate to the view.

"Have fun with the boy now, sweetheart."

The Tyrant obeyed its creator and Piers was lifted off his feet by its clawed hands.

He mewled as he felt the bulging head rub his doughy entrance, popping in effortlessly. Gently, the entirety of the heavily textured shaft slid in all the way to the knot.

There it met a bit of resistance.

Piers gasped, feeling the Tyrant using its strength in order to push the last ten inches of its cock past his sphincter. He could already see the glans poking through his stomach. There was an obvious, bent bump below his skin. That gigantic thing occupied his entire rectum and most of his sigmoid. With the knot added, it would reach further than anything ever did before.

The Tyrant pulled out until only the head remained trapped inside. Piers felt the spikes dragging against his guts, sending ripples of pleasure coursing through his body. His ass belched copious amounts of slime, desperate to be filled up again.

With a bit more force, the Tyrant sheathed its titanic erection back in. Still the knot wouldn't fit, but it knew that. Its master couldn't accommodate such size, so why would this new toy here be able to?

Wesker had to admit, his eyes had been far larger than his hole when he had designed that mutant dick. The knot was overdone, but it didn't matter, the rest of the shaft was more than satisfactory in terms of girth and length.

Besides, he knew he would be able to conquer that knot someday.

He trusted Piers to be able to take it though. He just needed to get his hole beaten into submission first.

"Come on, fuck him. Give it to him hard. That's how he likes it."

With a growl, the Tyrant complied and began pounding.

Piers tensed up, feeling the onset of a non-stop orgasm. He would always get one whenever he was being fucked roughly enough by something large. Too many zones in his body were stimulated at once.

He lost his strength from the sensation, not that he had much left to begin with. He lay limp in the Tyrant's grasp, being used like a mere toy. He sure was the size of one compared to the monster.

It simply was the best.

"Harder. Punish that sloppy twat properly."

Moans turned to screams as the Tyrant picked up an even more relentless pace. Pulling its dick out and shoving it back in at incredible speed. Its knot smashing against the pouty lips of Piers' ruined anus.

Everytime, it went a bit further inside.

Until it reached the widest part. Then the Tyrant pushed, craving that warmth to engulf it entirely.

Piers passed out as it succeeded, feeling his prostate crushed by the gigantic insertion as well as the glans embedding itself further into his guts, opening up an unexplored region of his anatomy to new sensations.

Fortunately, he came back to his senses rather quickly, but he was dazed beyond belief. He was pissing, a lazy trickle from his cage due to his bladder being just as flattened out as his poor prostate right now. His tits were milking by themselves from the tension in his body.

He couldn't even tell if it felt good or not. It didn't matter. Pain and pleasure were becoming more and more indiscernible from one another as the days went by.

When Piers' body shuddered in a torturous spasm of overstimulation, he shat his rectum out and the knot popped right past his sphincter, briefly stretching his cunt lips again. The rest of the bendy shaft followed along, ejected out of his guts with a big glob of ass slime. Even the head fell out this time.

Never before had his twat been so utterly destroyed.

The Tyrant kept fucking erratically between his legs, not yet realizing its dick no longer was inside of anything.

"What a mess." Wesker laughed as he rose. His own erection was twitching with arousal, he absolutely needed a break if he didn't want to blow his load right now.

He pushed his prisoner's prolapse back in before grabbing a hold of the Tyrant's twitching rod and angling it against the wrecked hole.

The more aroused the creature became, the more brutal its mating got.

Wesker knew this, he had engineered it that way.

"I hope you'll enjoy getting knot-fucked into oblivion." he purred, giving one last caress to his creation's dangling balls.

He couldn't wait for the money shot.

He went back to sit and admire the most depraved spectacle of his life. Stroking himself slowly, building his pleasure up to his limit, then letting it come back down, denying his climax for as long as he could bear.

Piers couldn't believe there was something more intense than being fucked by the machine in the prison. It was nothing compared to the Tyrant. He had never felt anything even close to this. He was overwhelmed. His addled brain not even able to truly define the sensation.

His ass spread by that gigantic knot fucking him. Popping in, then popping out. All the while that brutal, spiked dick dragged his insides along with each thrust. His hole was prolapsed and swollen, espousing that enormous erection defiling it. His anus like an engorged mouth desperately sucking that Tyrant hard-on. The squelching, wet farts it created were like sinful music.

Piers knew his master loved when an ass talked back and his slack insides were very talkative indeed.

His head was resting against the Tyrant's bulging, sweating pectorals. He was drooling helplessly, nothing but a boneless sack of meat to be raped. His milk dripping down his chest, drenching both the monster and himself.

Truly, he was in heaven.

The Tyrant squeezed him harder in its embrace, like a warm, wonderful hug full of love. It pounded his hole even more callously. The shoves so powerful its giant balls were now hitting his spread ass, creating tendrils of juices between them.

Then he felt the rod beginning to pulsate inside of him and, instantly, hot come began to shoot up his guts. The spasms of his constant pleasure draining those testes dry. The spray of ejaculate like a torrent inside of him, filling him up.

Even though his belly was now round and swollen, making him look pregnant, the creature still kept coming and coming, flooding Piers' battered guts. Some of it even poured out of his open mouth as he coughed up the excess.

He could hardly breathe from how rough the piledriving was. That knot was fucking him insane. All he could do was cry pitifully while his tongue flopped lazily out of his trembling lips. His soft, locked dick bouncing, filling the room with the tinkles of metal. His lids fluttered as his eyes crossed in lustful stupor. His prostate mercilessly beaten by that thick battering ram of flesh.

Piers could feel that giant length all the way inside of his stomach, churning that huge load. But all that was nothing compared to the stretch of his hole. The knot had reshaped it, properly cunting his ass, turning him into the boy toy he was meant to be.

Fucked mindless by a big, manly monster.

He couldn't get enough of it. 

His weak hands grabbed a hold of the Tyrant's muscular frame, holding on for dear life as the sex rocked him so hard. Every thrust made him see stars and sent intense jolt of ecstasy throughout his entire body. All of his extremities were numb. His head was swimming. He couldn't even speak anymore.

The Tyrant relished that perfect plaything in its powerful, clawed grasp. That loose, doughy hole was like an enveloping glove. Even when the creature pulled out, Piers' prolapse followed, so it never was truly outside.

Wesker thoroughly enjoyed the show. Finding someone that could accommodate his creation's knot was already impressive enough. But finding someone who could withstand getting fucked by it? Now that was truly outstanding. Such a good slut, that little soldier was. He loved it. That fine ass with its intestines out was such a beautiful sight. He encouraged his pet monster to be even rougher.

He walked towards the pair, dick in hand, still masturbating. He was so pent-up now, it was painful. He angled himself towards his slave's bright red cunt meat and doused it in his own come, adding to his lovely monster's mess.

The Tyrant's orgasm carried on and on, prolonged by the squeezing of its knot whenever it popped inside of its victim's distended fuck hole. Even when its giant balls had nothing left to give, the creature still kept fucking, wrecking that ass completely. It kept pounding and pounding, its load squirting out with each thrust.

It kept going until its knot deflated. Only then did it deign to fully pull out.

Wesker marvelled at the mess in which his prisoner was left. His belly grossly inflated, his rectum sagging out of his puffy, destroyed anus, so loose and broken.

The Tyrant, now satisfied, gently laid its toy on the floor. It was not a model engineered for violence. It had no desire for blood and mayhem. All it wanted was to fuck humans stupid. Orgasming was rather pacifying for it, turning the big scary monster into quite the loving companion.

With a mean smirk, Wesker pressed his booted heel upon Piers' round stomach, letting the rubber play on the taut skin, feeling how all that mutant come sloshed inside.

Piers didn't have a mind to protest, still lost after the roughest sex he had ever experienced.

He howled in pain when a harsh stomp met his abdomen, sending all that thick come exploding out in enormous, noisy gushes from both his ass and mouth.

The sweet agony, as well as the relief of that tremendous pressure inside of his body, made him climax yet again.

His prolapse further increased in size from the abuse. Perhaps it was also thanks to whatever Wesker had injected his ass with over the past month. Not only had it completely stretched out his hole into a gaping, cavernous cunt, but it also had thickened his rectum to a monstrous size.

When that slimy, bright red mass of flesh squirmed its way out, it was like he was giving birth. It was gigantic, now nearly the size of the toys he usually pleasured himself with. A blood red worm, fattened by mutagens.

How long before it actually became sentient? If it wasn't already given how utterly empty-headed the boy was now.

And oh did it feel good when stroked. It was a thousand times more sensitive than his dick. Any touch to it was guaranteed to make him come in just a few seconds.

When Piers had finally recovered some of his wits after the hit, he fondled it amorously with both hands, cherishing the feeling of ruin wrought upon his body. Being the perfect bitch for his beloved master was the ultimate goal he strived for day after day.

He knew he was good at it too.

"Are you thirsty, you brainless whore?"

Piers nodded, still dizzy from the assault. He wasn't really, he still had plenty of thick Tyrant sperm coming up his throat and his stomach still felt full. However, he knew what was being offered and he wasn't going to pass this special treat.

Unable to sit up, he remained on the ground, laying on his back. He opened his mouth, awaiting his reward as he looked upon his master taking his meaty, flaccid length in hand.

Soon, a strong, pungent stream of piss hit Piers in the face, dousing him entirely. There was too much for him to keep up with. It flooded his mouth and showered him whenever he closed it to swallow a big gulp.

He drank his fill, as much as he could. The acrid taste was overpowering, nearly burning on his tongue. Such a manly flavour, he came from savouring it.

As the flow slowly died down, Wesker sprayed the rest of his prisoner's body, making sure to splash that gorgeous prolapse as well, marking all of him as his property.

He shook the last droplets off and glanced upon his Tyrant.

It was erect again.

Lovely.

This had been an issue with the previous models. Those not specifically engineered for sex. They became unresponsive after getting off just once. Wesker had worked hard to fix that flaw. His lovely pet was utterly perfect. A magnificent specimen. Always horny, always ready to please.

"Wanna go for round two or is your twat tired out already?" he asked the useless object laying on the floor, not that he cared about his comfort. He just knew he wouldn't get much enjoyment if his little captive spent the entire session unconscious.

"M-more…" Piers muttered with come bubbling out of his nose.

"Get back up then, prove you still have some fight left in you."

He did as commanded, failing to stand a couple times due to his legs being soft like cotton. Sure, he was tired, but his hole still screamed for more.

It always did.

He wobbled quite a bit, but he managed to take a few steps to approach the Tyrant again. The creature instantly understood and pushed his prolapse back in with its twitching length.

The knot penetrated him without any effort this time.

Piers would require far larger dildos from now on.

"Surely there's room for me as well." Wesker snickered, shoving his own erection against the Tyrant's until it slid straight into his slave's sloppy cunt.

For the first time in a month, it actually felt tight.

"Oooh… ooooh master. I… I love you." mewled Piers, ecstatic to be double penetrated. Such a special treat. He had two Tyrants all to himself. Surely he was spoiled rotten tonight for being a good slut. He was so proud of himself.

"I know you do, you stupid slut."

The complete anal destruction carried on for many more hours and Piers had never been happier before in his entire life.

Of course, this wasn't saying much since he had completely forgotten who he was.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, Chris finally finds his way to Wesker's hideout.  
> Warning : it's pretty tame compared to previous chapters

Another week in hell.

But it felt like heaven to Piers.

When his beloved Wesker entered his cell this morning, he was busy fisting himself silly. He had been at it for so long, his arm was shaking.

"Oh master. I need you. Help me, please. Punch my ass open."

That got no reaction out of his captor.

Had he not been so high on pheromones, he would have noticed how he wore his long coat and sunglasses. Something he no longer did when visiting him.

Piers' mind was in such a blur, he was unable to notice the difference. All he wanted was more sex. He couldn't stop unless he collapsed from exhaustion. His entire body tingled and nagged him even in his dreams. It was the unique thought remaining in his head.

Every waking moment was spent playing with his abused self. Stretching his hole. Milking his nipples. Torturing his balls. Pain felt better than pleasure to him now. His brain no longer functioned properly.

Over the course of the past week, he had spent most of his time either amongst horny Majini or hooked to the machine fucking him with a gigantic spiked dildo even faster than Wesker did. So big it raised his stomach with every shove. His hole had been rubbed raw, it was now purple and sagging obscenely like an aged cunt. It was never given the chance to recover. It gaped and prolapsed all day long. Wesker had furthered the mess by pumping it on a daily basis, keeping it all swollen and tingly.

Piers' nipples had also been milked by suction cups like he was nothing but a mere cow. They were puffed up and engorged. They throbbed so much, he couldn't stop fondling them.

"Get up." Wesker ordered, not touching his prisoner as to not arouse him further. Not even kicking him to encourage his obedience. Not that he ever needed to.

Piers rose to his feet, trembling, his hand still buried in his ass, pumping his prostate.

"Stop playing with yourself." came another order.

"I can't, master." the boy gasped as he fisted another orgasm out of himself and nearly fell over from its intensity. His inner walls clung to his wrists in sloppy, wet noises as his body convulsed.

Wesker had expected this. Out of his pocket, he produced handcuffs and locked both the soldier's wrists together above his ruined ass.

Piers squirmed, his body screaming for stimulation. Not being able to calm his constant edge was the worst torture imaginable. Why wasn't he getting any help today? This wasn't fair.

"Please, master. Please touch me. I'm burning up."

As he became restless, his captor tied a leather collar around his neck. One fit for a dog. Tag, leash, and all. He then unlocked the cage around his dick, the first time he had been freed in almost a month.

Since his canal had been kept open by the hollow sound, his piss just flowed out beyond his control, and again, he came from it.

Still, he deplored the freedom of his cock. Hopefully this was because his master wanted to torture it.

"Bark for me, puppy."

"Woof-woof! Ruff!" Piers obeyed playfully, sticking his tongue out.

"Good boy." Wesker smiled, patting him on the head, "Does this naughty little puppy want to go for a walk?"

Another cheerful yap along with a nod.

Of course he did. Whenever he was let out of his cell, it was either for the Majini, the machine, or the Tyrant. Each option equally delicious, though he had a soft spot for pleasing the eager monster.

The soldiers were a lot of fun too. They had kept adding up the count for every session. His high score for one night was two hundred and three. He was nearing a thousand zombies served in total. A milestone he was eager to break.

However, instead of turning right in the prison corridor as they always did, they headed left. He had never been brought that way.

Did his captor have a new surprise for him?

He was so excited to discover it.

He followed along, happy and aroused. The simple act of walking, to feel his erection bouncing, his saggy asshole rubbing between his cheeks and dripping down his legs. That gave him a few dry orgasms on the way.

The collar around his neck made him shiver in submissive pleasure and left him with a craving for strangulation.

He hoped to be beaten good today. He wanted to bleed. His lashed back was healing and he desperately needed more wounds to climax from.

He looked at Wesker's balled fist around the leash leading him and fantasized about it meeting his bare skin in brutal punches. That turned him on beyond words.

Corridor after corridor. Room after room. He had no idea where they were going, but he couldn't wait to arrive. Every step he took made his body quiver and his mouth drool.

His master was strangely silent too. He may not have paid attention to the outfit, but he sure noticed his lack of teasing and insults. He desired to be verbally degraded as much as he yearned for violence. Nothing made him feel more appreciated than being called awful things like 'dumb whore' and 'worthless piss slave'.

'Naughty little puppy' had been too kind for him. He was a bastard mutt whose sole purpose in life was sucking dick. He craved the taste of come in his mouth. The smell of ripe, hairy balls in his nose. He wanted to clean sweaty ass cracks with his tongue. He wanted to lick cold sperm and urine off the floor. He wanted to feast upon a month's worth of dick cheese.

His erection throbbed while his mind was flooded with perverse thoughts.

The wait better be worth it.

They eventually arrived before an imposing metal gate which required Wesker to type in a code for it to open.

Piers suddenly grew beyond excited. Did he keep another monster in there? Would he become a new Tyrant's plaything today? Have every hole in his body explored by curious tentacles?

He was so happy he was trembling.

However, disappointment was soon to follow.

They entered a large hall where about a dozen soldiers waited, looking somewhat uneasy.

They were not Majini. Even in his state, Piers could tell those guys were still human.

Well, this wasn't the reward he had been hoping for, but being fucked by a bunch of burly army men was an enticing prospect too. As long as he was getting sex, he couldn't complain.

Much to his dismay, all of them averted their gaze when they saw him, as if scared.

All of them but one : their leader.

Somehow, he was familiar.

"Here you go, Redfield. He's still in one piece." Wesker smirked as he handed the leash over.

"Oh captain!" Piers yelped with delight as he instantly threw his entire body over the other man and humped him. His foggy brain was desperately trying to recognize him. Had he not been told his name just now, he would have just been another stranger.

Despite his strength, Chris had trouble holding the boy back at arms length.

Wesker laughed, delighted by the situation, "Can't say the same for his mind, I'm afraid."

"What the fuck have you done to him?" Chris roared, enraged to see the state in which his right hand man was in.

Poor lad was completely naked. His body beaten bloody and bruised all over. Two black eyes, lips dry and busted, patches of hair missing. He had lost a lot of weight and felt like he was running a high fever.

One piece? What a joke. He urgently needed to see a doctor. He was in a far worse state than he had seen in this unfortunate video and tasteless pictures Wesker had sent him. He couldn't believe his eyes. It was a miracle that his friend was still alive.

And what was wrong with him? Why was he behaving in such a disgusting, depraved manner in front of his comrades? He didn't even seem to know who they were anymore.

No doubt he was on drugs.

Chris then noticed the tag upon the collar.

'Stupid slut', it read.

He frowned in disgust, instantly unbuckling the leather from around his fellow's neck and throwing it to the floor. He lifted a scornful look at Wesker.

"You sick fuck." he hissed through clenched teeth, "What the hell have you done to him?"

"Nothing serious."

Piers felt like he was about to explode. It was too much. All those men. Nobody was touching him. Why?

"Fuck me, captain! Please. Please, beat me up. Spit on me. Give me your dick." he panted like a dog in heat.

He looked at the other soldiers. Many still awkwardly stared at their feet, barely daring to catch a curious glance every once in a while.

Why were they like this? Were they not here to fuck him senseless?

"All of you... What are you waiting for? I want your come. I want your piss. In my mouth and in my ass. Everywhere. Please fuck me. Wreck me!"

"Piers, snap out of it!" Chris demanded, his voice shaking, completely mortified by his friend's words. No way he could live like this.

He shouted towards Wesker, "Turn him back to normal!"

"Oh, I'm so sorry." the older man falsely apologized in his most condescending tone, "He's been given his shot just a few hours ago. It might take as much a twenty-four hours before he comes down from his high."

Piers began to wail. No one was listening to him and he was now so horny it hurt.

"I need something in my ass! Anything! I can't take it anymore. I'm going crazy." he groaned and whined, desperately trying to get out of his captain's grasp so he could rub his febrile body all over him.

Chris just wanted to cry to see him like this. It was disgusting and made everyone awfully uncomfortable. What the hell was he on?

"Don't fucking tell me you've turned him into an addict."

Wesker scoffed, rolling his eyes

"He should be back to normal by tomorrow. He might go cold turkey on you for a few days, but it should leave no permanent sequelae on his body. I'd still recommend keeping a close eye and locking him up somewhere he can't hurt himself for the time being."

Chris choked back his sobs and took his jacket off to make Piers more decent, thus releasing his hold on his shoulders. His friend was instantly pressed against him, but he let him do as he pleased for now. He just wanted to cover his shame. It was difficult to keep the clothes on him since he moved so much and didn't care at all if he was naked in front of everyone.

In dismay, he looked at the poor boy who drooled, eyes crossed, as he desperately humped his thigh. His pants were now covered in come and his shirt was soaked in what he hoped was a lot of sweat, but it didn't seem like it

He couldn't understand what was going on, but he wouldn't stay around to find out. They had to get their comrade out of here right now. It had been dangerous enough to come to this hideout. It was awfully suspicious that Wesker just gave up his captive without so much as asking for something in exchange.

Was that all just a gratuitous revenge?

"If you ever fantasized about fucking him, I'd recommend you do it while he's still under the influence. He's such a good slut, you won't regret it." Wesker added with a smirk.

"We're leaving." Chris ordered, not even caring to acknowledge the taunt.

But he did give his ex-captain a dark glance, "You'll pay for this."

"Promises, promises." Wesker shrugged, amused, "You've already failed to kill me so many times already. We just had some fun, Piers and I. It's your fault for not getting him back earlier."

Hostages weren't his game, surely even his old friend was smart enough to know that. Hence why he gave the boy back without so much as an afterthought.

He fished an envelope out of his coat and handed it over.

"Read it later when you've got your horny little puppy safe and sound."

Chris angrily seized the paper and walked away with Piers under his shoulder. The young soldier was still begging to be raped and abused.

"Be a good whore for your friends." Wesker raised his voice at his once captive's intention.

He watched as they departed, disappointed to see his prisoner go. He hadn't had time to properly modify him like he wished. He would also have tried to wean him from the drug and see just how loving and obedient he could be while sober.

Even though the substance had played with his mind, he would remember everything that had been done to him, everything he had said, and how much he had enjoyed his punishment.

Would that fill him with hatred and a desire for vengeance? Would that depress him and push him to commit the unthinkable? Would he be forever changed and crave to service men for the rest of his days?

Only time would tell.

Regardless of his mind, his tits would keep on lactating and his ass would remain a gaping abyss. He'd have a hard time finding a partner now, but luckily there were perverts out there in the world.

Perhaps the poor boy would just end up in a back alley somewhere, letting anyone and everyone use his bucket cunt as they pleased.

As the soldiers exited the building, Wesker went to rejoin the one man he truly cared about.

Even outside, Chris couldn't shake his uneasiness. Getting Piers back had been way too easy. Surely there was a catch. Other than his current state, of course.

At least he didn't seem to be infected with any kind of virus. He had felt his throat and chest when taking his collar off and noticed no weird lumps that could indicate a parasite. They'd perform a more in-depth search once they regained their base, but for now, he didn't seem dangerous.

Back in the helicopter, Chris had no other choice but to tie his friend up and watch as he begged and convulsed. His cries were heart-wrenching and hearing him demand more and more degrading acts to be inflicted upon his person was sickening. The men cringed at what he craved to endure, some even covered their ears as tears rolled down their cheeks.

Chris tuned him out after a while. His mind couldn't take it. He just wanted to get back home and get completely smashed.

Looking at the white envelope in his hand, he tore it open. A single piece of folded paper was inside with barely a line of text upon it.

_Now you know what it feels like to see the one you love suffer._   
_If we ever cross paths again, I'll kill you for betraying me._   
_\- Leon_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading. ♥  
> I have a sequel planned for this fic, which I shall work on when the Resident Evil hyperfixation returns.


End file.
